


Summer Skin

by seafogs



Category: EXO (Band), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafogs/pseuds/seafogs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they're partners that have been separated by a nuclear fallout, and now one's trying to find the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Skin

  
**Present Day**  


Jongdae often wakes up drenched in cold sweat; he’s been dreaming himself drowning in different bodies of water for several years already.

The process is almost systematic, however. His mind can perfectly recall every step of the process before he feels his body slowly suffocating from the depths of an abandoned lake, for example. He feels for his fingers, only to realize they have shrunk like prunes, slowly wrinkling away from the excess moisture.

The end of the dream is always ambiguous as he can only see himself standing in the middle of the body of water; he wakes up right after that. Whenever he’d try going back to sleep, he doesn’t dream of anything afterwards, or at least, nothing that he can seem to remember concretely.

 

 

 

“How long have you been getting these dreams?” It was the first thing Minseok had asked when Jongdae suggested that he shouldn’t be going around alone if he had to be susceptible to something like this.

“Years,” Jongdae slowly replies, counting back the days and weeks, trying to recall a day when he didn’t have these dreams at all. It seemed like a blur to him when he had tried to look back on one time he had a solid dream that consisted of anything else other than this. More often than not, the dreams would render Jongdae listless and silent for the rest of the day. Usually, he’d just end up wondering why he had been made to see these dreams and experience them vividly as if they were real. “Most of my life, actually.”

Minseok unknowingly smashes his fist on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? I’d hate for you to go through this kind of thing alone.” The two of them have been the best of friends for God knows how long, and it saddens him when he realizes that no matter how close he was with Jongdae, he’d never thought of letting his best friend into something like this that has been bothering him for a long time.

“You make it sound as if you can partake in my dreams.”

Back when they were kids, Jongdae had been initially jovial, his eyes thinning into crescents almost by instinct whenever he would be around Minseok. Together, they’d laugh at even the silliest of things, and go on adventures that would take them to new places they never knew existed. They were invincible - something Minseok often wanted to consider the two of them. Now, however, his demeanour had changed - almost permanently, if you asked him. At most times, Jongdae would rather choose to remain quiet wherever they went. When most of the things that have taken place out in the Commonwealth would usually warrant a comment or two, he’d stay silent instead.

Ever since the dreams started, just the same as the water would cause Jongdae to drown within the depths of an ocean, he would also be drowning in his questions and his sorrow all the same.

“I know I can’t be there with you, but you could have told me sooner.”

Jongdae remains unsure on how the dreams began. He imagines the Sandman right by his bedside table, visibly dumping all the sand that enters his eyes and granting him the very nightmare he can’t seem to escape. He imagines being cursed by the Sandman himself. How? That was one question he can’t answer.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t know how to react with this haunting me all the time.”

When the one thing people would usually look forward to as the sign that ended their day, was the very same that horrified Jongdae every night. He had tried gulping down countless shots of espresso, and as he felt his pulse palpate while he would be reclining on his bed, he had feared sleep taking over him and taking the helm - all because he knew the destination and he hated the whole process of getting there. His mind constantly had willed himself not to fight - to allow sleep to delude him into thinking everything would be fine, but he knew better.

He would wake up the same way every night after that; his shirt soaked in sweat, his breath heavy and his vision distorted. For a while he considered the idea of sleeping shirtless but the feeling of soaking the sheets instead of loose shirts made him panic. It was inevitable, he tried nearly all that he can just to stay awake, but his mind always wins the fight.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

Minseok feared for Jongdae’s life. He’s heard stories about nightmares that instantly grew into sleep paralysis and had eventually taken that person’s life. The underlying fear that states the same could happen to Jongdae at any time shakes him to his core.

Jongdae shakes his head slowly. He had only attempted to tell his parents once, before the bombs fell. They were all casually sharing a meal with one another when Jongdae tried to coax them into believing he has been a victim of his own mind. He fears falling asleep at night not knowing whether he can still wake up the next day or not. His parents have shaken off the idea, thinking their child might have had too much time on his hands. The thoughts quickly fleeted them as they came, with life after the bombs fell and moving to their assigned Vault had kept them occupied for the years to come.

It was then he realized he only had one other person to turn to, and that had been Minseok.

The two had initially met up somewhere hidden away from everyone else. A small bunkhouse located within the depths of an unlit alley in Goodneighbor was their meeting place. Jongdae had been too skeptical with the location that he ended up waiting just outside the alley until Minseok had arrived and ended up dragging him inside, all while reassuring him that it was perfectly safe.

It was, to Jongdae’s surprise. The small bunk had actually been converted into a bar, kept hidden away from everyone else who stuck to the wide roads and actual structures deemed suitable for living. In here, Minseok thinks, maybe Jongdae would have more comfort in knowing he could talk without anyone else hearing him. He didn’t think that Jongdae’s case would have been this crucial, however.

“Now that you’ve given me the premise, tell me every single detail you remember. Tell me all the things you’ve always wanted to tell your parents, but have been afraid to do so.” The two talk over a cold beer on cups made out of old gas canisters. He understands how settlers have become so creative with the junk that they find around the Commonwealth. However, there’s a slight fear in him knowing something poisonous used to be kept in these.

Their bartender - a modified Protectron named Stereo - doesn’t seem to mind anyways.

 

“How is that supposed to help? I know you’re concerned, Minseok, I cannot thank you enough for that. Really, though, how is that going to change anything?”

“Just trust me,” Minseok replies, carefully stretching out a hand to cover one of Jongdae’s. It’s uncanny how the young man can still continue to get up every single morning with the fear that his dreams can take him away at any point in time. His hands have grown cold; they might as well be as cold as the sea he always finds himself drowning in. “I can help you with this, I promise.”

 

 

**Matthew 14:22-33**

_Do you remember that bible passage where Jesus walked on water?_

_It sounded like a narrative in his head, but the narrator remains anonymous. Jongdae stands in the middle of a vast sea. The body of water varies in every dream, but he often gets the sea._

_Before him lies a clear view of the moon and the stars. He’s quite lucky he can see them, for people have often said time and time again - when someone sees the moon and stars clearly before him, he is sure there will be no rain to fall that evening._

_For a brief moment, he’d be calm and serene. He remembers the first time he entered this very dream; he marvelled at the scene before him like nothing else in the world he had ever seen. He would hear nothing else around him except for the hushed rustle of the waves that are keeping him afloat. When he feels everything else but time has stopped, he ignores all common laws of physics that demand his body to be subjected to the drowning waters and basked in the opportunity to be standing on water._

_The very thought causes him to plunge into the dark embrace of the sea with no prior warning. His arms unconsciously scramble for something to hold onto, the ferocity of the rushing waters are pushing him down at the same time. The more the waters push him deeper, the less he tries to look for something to hold onto; almost as if he’s coming to terms with his fate._

_The longer he dips to the depths of the sea, the more he slowly assesses how his body slowly undergoes changes from the freezing waters. His fingers have slowly shrunk up into the size of prunes, he runs his nails on the creases, trying to understand how the whole process takes place. The longer he’s being submerged, the more he feels himself feeling less and less. The waters are now slowly carrying him like a newborn child delivered to their parents._

_He no longer feel anything in his entire body. His senses have failed him, and the only part of himself that he can move at this point would be his eyes. There is nothing but darkness before him, and he is terrified at what horrors the sea can behold at this depth._

_It was as if an invisible force had been pushing him down this whole time, leaving him no way to stop its tracks. Jongdae slowly closes his eyes, almost as if he’s already accepted his fate with open arms. If he was to die this way, then he will accept the way it had been planned out for him. He feels like a child who has been forcefully spoonfed for so long he’s come to the realization everything might seem smoother if only he had come to accept it so easily._

_Just as he had come to accept everything, his body becomes dry and returns to normal. He no longer feels the musky feeling of the sea but rather the cold breeze hitting his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He can finally move his fingers and legs as he no longer finds himself struggling to reach the surface. When he opens his eyes, he returns to the very scene he had familiarized before he had been plunged into the sea beneath him. There, the moon is before him, still. Everything seems at peace around him, despite the fact that he had almost had a close encounter with Death beside him, deep in the middle of an empty ocean._

_The only thing that’s different, however, is that he finds himself standing on a lone plank of wood in the middle of the ocean. Unlike before he had been submerged, he had been standing out in the open without the need of the wooden plank. Had the sudden dive in the dark ocean been a reminder that he was still human, and that no human could ever go beyond the boundaries of physics? Had this whole ordeal been a trick of the mind all this time, reminding Jongdae of his physical boundaries and needs? There had been so many questions, most especially on the first time he had encountered this nightmare. He was afraid, however, that no scientific theory could back up something as ridiculous as this._

 

 

 

**March 2069**

Before Minseok and Jongdae had even got a chance to catch up on one another in Goodneighbor, they began as childhood friends, living in the heart of the Commonwealth.

Minseok probably had too much time on his hands when the first thing he does when he runs past school hallways is to look for Jongdae and hands him a DIY invitation to his upcoming 7th birthday. His best friend, who was five years old then, laughed in response. “How long did it take you to make this?”

“More than it should have.”

It’s partly true, considering it’s the only invitation Minseok made for his birthday. He had never been too keen on making a name for himself; he had always found comfort in sitting by the bleachers; watching everything else unfold before him. Jongdae had been the only person Minseok considers as his friend; the rest are either acquaintances or simply schoolmates. It was as simple as that.

“Your parents treat me as family anyways, so I’m sure I can go,” Jongdae says, staring at the invitation longingly, treating it with such sentimental value. “Thank you.”

The two have had a fair share of childhood memories while growing up - from spending several hours playing the board game Blast Radius until they lost track of who won more, to roleplaying around the room with their Jangles the Moon Monkey stuffed toy. Terminals and holotapes were shared across the two in the years they had spent growing up together. They shared personal hopes and dreams, things they swore they would never tell their parents, even with a knife held by their throat. They would go from frequent sleepovers to helping each other out with schoolwork whenever the situation called for it. Their bond as brothers grew stronger just as they grew up together.

 

 

 

**June 2075**

Minseok remembered that day all too well. Normally, he would be expecting a knock or two from Jongdae (they have this way of telling who’s at the door just by who and how they’re knocking). He hadn’t expected a Vault-Tec representative standing outside his doorway, however.

“Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!” he says, with a tip of his hat and one hand clutching a clipboard.

Minseok finds himself watching all this cautiously, standing a few steps away from his father, leaning on the couch. The man who seems to hail himself from Vault-Tec is in a hat and suit ensemble with a sickly shade of yellow. His rather uncommon uppity attitude gets the young man thinking that he isn’t here for a mere chit-chat.

“Vault-Tec?” His father answers rather cluelessly, “Remind me again.”

The representative seemed all too happy to explain his purpose for his visit. “Why - we’re all about you, sir! And helping secure your future. You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost builder of state-of-the-art underground fallout shelters.”

Fallout shelters? Minseok thinks, what are the chances they’ll ever get to use that?

“Vaults, if you will,” he continues, with clipboard in hand while the other gestures wildly at the possible grandeur of the structure. “Luxury accommodations, where you can wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation.”

Over the past few days, all Minseok could hear at home were the warning cries erupting from the television set - telling everyone about the dangers of prolonged exposure to radiation. He had never considered the possibility of a nuclear war happening right in their city. Personally, he has never understood the principles of war in its entirety; as much as possible, he steered himself away from that.

“You can’t begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you; I’ve been trying for days, it’s a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.” The representative’s uppity tone seemed to have significantly increased; Minseok could only grimace in disgust from afar, assuming the guy on the doorway hasn’t been paying attention to anyone else but his father. The representative mentions how he’s been trying to reach them for days; yet, this is the first time the company’s name has ever been uttered in their household.

“What’s so important?” The reason is a dead giveaway, although it could be a trick question.

“Why - nothing less than your entire future! If you haven’t noticed, sir, this country has gone to heck in a handbasket.”

“If you’ll excuse my language; the big kaboom is -- it’s inevitable, I’m afraid. And coming sooner than you may think, if you catch my meaning.”

“Now, I know you’re a busy fellow, so I won’t take up much of your time. Time being a,” he scratches his nape precociously, finding ways to sympathize with his father just so he could get his full attention, “precious commodity.”

“I’m here today to tell you that because of your family’s service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault, Vault 326.”

For a moment there, Minseok’s unsure of the chances of whether other people have been given the same invite. First impressions tell him that it must have been such an honor to be invited to such an exclusive vault. Then again, this can’t be all; instincts tell him it’s too good to be true. The mention of the possibility of living in the Vaults causes all of them to look at one another, their eyes filled with a sudden sense of fear rushing in.

“Sounds … great,” Minseok’s father replies, albeit halfheartedly.

The representative doesn’t seem to notice the change in tone. “Oh it is, believe me. Now you’re already cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of,” He stops, clearing his throat for an added dramatic effect, “total atomic annihilation.”

After which, the two take a couple of minutes exchanging papers to be filled up and signed for consent. Soon, the Vault-Tec representative takes off his hat in a unspoken gesture as thanks to the family for cooperating with him and their project (hopefully for everyone else’s participation).

“Wonderful! That’s everything. Just gonna walk this over to the Vault! Congratulations on being prepared for the future!”

 

 

 

A few days later, Jongdae comes out to the front porch of their house to catch up with Minseok, only to tell the latter the exact same encounter with the Vault-Tec representative.

The skies had been clear that day, and the two had just finished playing a couple of rounds of Blast Radius, coupled up with roleplaying with Alien guns around Jongdae’s room. For a while, Minseok sat outside just before Jongdae followed suit, making up reasons why anyone would even want to consider a nuclear war in the country in the first place. He sighs in discontentment when he realizes his youth and naivety hinders him from learning all the answers.

“You saw him, didn’t you? He was in that disgusting yellow trench coat and hat combination, holding a clipboard with - probably Vault-Tec’s logo.”

Minseok tells Jongdae his take on what had happened in their encounter with the Vault-Tec rep. Initially, he’s kept his hopes up on the slight chance that their families might end up in the same Vault. It was probably obvious; the two of them lived in Sanctuary Hills, along with their neighbors. If Vault-Tec did the math, to make adjusting easier for residents, they would all merge those they’ve invited from one area in the same vault.

“The guy who visited us said the same thing; it was more or less a script, knowing them. However, they assigned us somewhere else.”

A few nights ago, Minseok recalls his mother warning him about the dangers should anyone else in Sanctuary Hills were to know about the Vault invitation. It pained the young man to realize how many casualties there would be when the time comes; how many lives would be left only to be shut out from the heavy metal doorways of the Vault. He recalls the radiation warnings and possibly wonders how that’ll come into play soon enough.

_Just try not to mention it to anyone else, as much as possible. I don’t think Vault-Tec would take too kindly on us harboring more people for them to take in, you know?_

“We got assigned to Vault 921. It’s sad, you know? I had initially thought we’d be in the same Vault. Fate must have seen this coming, and planned this to keep us apart.”

The two remain silent for a while, slowly coming to terms with what fate had set out for them - their future. They’re both equally relieved knowing the other doesn’t have to suffer a horrible death; dying with the guilt and irrational anger that they had not been allowed access to a Vault for some unspeakable reason. Was there a criteria for all this? Or had Vault-Tec chose them from so many names in a large hat?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Minseok replies, leaning in closer to the young man out of reflex. “You haven’t told anyone else, have you?”

Jongdae shakes his head. “He came around just yesterday; I’m surprised he got to you earlier, though.”

Minseok clutches Jongdae’s hand tightly, their hands interwoven along minuscule blades of grass. It was only a matter of time before the bombs could fall; their television sets calling out everyone to seek cover or run to the nearest Vault that they’ve been assigned to. It was only a matter of time before he’d lose sight of Jongdae for the years to come.

_I’ll come back for you, no matter how long that takes._

 

 

 

**October 23, 2077**

Given a chance, Minseok would have admitted how the entire day was a blur - from start to finishing halfway, like a seasoned marathon runner giving up because their legs suddenly gave out. The rest of the Commonwealth would have said the same, were they asked.

The day started out like any other, a copy of the day’s newspaper as well as good chunk of mail had been thrown at their doorstep. The home’s resident Mr. Handy had taken the liberty of waking up Minseok for breakfast, along with a couple of encouraging words for the young man like ‘ _the sooner you get up, the more time you can spend it with Jongdae_ ’. Without a doubt, it surely got him up and running; he’s reminded of the fact that every waking day could be his last - the bombs could fall at any minute.

They did, that morning. He had been in the middle of eating a hefty breakfast when Clockwork - their Mr. Handy had been trying to get his parents attention; to watch the sudden interruption of the normal broadcast. The Vault-Tec representative came to mind, however, how he had sold them the idea of moving to the Vaults a couple of years back - a contingency plot, if you will; it was what they had intended. Minseok had been enraged at the thought of letting them have a false sense of security for such a long time. In the span of roughly two years, who else had been invited? Had anyone else been informed? Or would this be another trick up Vault-Tec’s sleeve?

“--Followed by … yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions … We’re … we’re trying to get confirmation,” the reporter leans in on his earpiece, with one hand pushing it deeper in his ear canal, and the other holding a script. It was a live broadcast, with reports coming in just as they are being delivered to local outlets. “But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations …”

“We do have … coming in … confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania,” he says, taking in the words too late right after he’s said them on live television. “My God,” he whispers to himself, he leans his forehead onto his palm, in clear disbelief that the nuclear threat has been real all this time and it has finally struck them all.

The transmission ends abruptly, only to be replaced by the standard ‘Please Stand By …” screen on their television. “We have to get to the Vaults, now!” Minseok’s father yells out, and in no time they’re all out of their homes running to the one direction they think would lead them to their designated vault. The closer they get to the gate that separates them and an unnamed Vault-Tec Security as well as a couple of men dressed in Power Armours behind him, the more Minseok takes a good look at everyone begging for the Security to let them in.

“If you’re in the program, step forward. Otherwise, return to your homes!” The uniformed Security officer said, heartlessly dismissing those who have not been informed about this exclusive bomb shelter for some of the other residents of Sanctuary Hills.

 _Then what? Leave them to die right here?_ Rage had unknowingly seeped through Minseok’s bloodstream when he finally realized that the truth had been standing right in front of him all this time; it taunts at him like Death watching over a dying patient on his hospital bed. Vault-Tec did a good job at keeping this a secret from everyone else - thy will be successful in killing off those they had deemed unsuitable to be taken in by any Vault.

 _Vault-Tec has announced a continuation of their “Welcome Home” promotion. They also report a high number of openings in their Vaults - despite earlier findings of reservations at an all-time high - especially for Vaults 107, 112, and 56._ A few years back, that had been one of the many headlines reporters kept repeating day in and day out. Had that been true, why didn’t Vault-Tec extend a hand to those who did not have a Vault for them to move into?

That being said, their neighbors had ended up flooding the gates that separated them and the Vault. If they weren’t on the list, the guards have been tasked with taking out anyone who did not listen to them. Minseok’s father had approached the security that blocked the entrance of the gate, only to double check between how many they were and the info that his father had previously given to the Vault-Tec representative.

“One adult male, one adult female, and one male child,” the security ticked them off the list, looking so sure he knew who he was referring to. They had never sent in any photos of them, so how would they know they got the right family? There were so many questions Minseok wanted to ask his parents at this crucial moment in history, but the fact that they’re all too preoccupied with seeking shelter from an impending nuclear attack - seemed all the more wiser to do.

Running up the hill, men in military fatigues joined them as they all reached the top. A large metal platform protruded from the ground, with people standing around the middle ring of it; Vault-Tec’s logo as well as the name ‘Vault 326’ had been written around the ring. The military men around them are frantically pointing at the metal platform. “Step in the center of the platform, and stand still!”

Around them are the lucky few they’re sharing a Vault with. When Minseok thought of few, he literally meant few; they were a little less than his fingers on both hands combined. How can such a large Vault - such as the one they’re moving into - hold just a handful of people?

As they’re standing on the highest point of the hill, they can very well see the rest of what would become the Commonwealth before them; they’re surrounded by clear skies, tall trees and small buildings. In a split second, however, just as the military men around them are scrambling in an effort to seek shelter for themselves, the nuclear bomb falls not far from their line of sight. Instantly, the clear skies turn into a bright shade of orange, Minseok likens it to how the sun sets so late in the day during summer. The explosion is almost too glorious to bear witness to that he doesn’t notice the people around him are whimpering in fear. Winds are bringing in the smoke from the debris just as the ring they’re standing on slowly descends, pulling them away from the catastrophe that’s slowly cascading around them.

During their descent, all he could hear were a mixture of silent sobs as well as the familiar comforting words a parent would deliver unto their child. “Had we descended a minute sooner,” an old man had whispered to himself. They may very well consider themselves dead had that had happened.

The platform drops with a loud thud and the mechanical doors in front of them open, revealing a stair leading upwards and two men beside it, one dressed in in a full-set of armour. The blue uniform - assuming the very same they will all wear now that they’re part of a Vault - sticks out quite nicely from under the roughly made padding as well as the rusty finish that wraps itself around the padded areas of their armour.

“Everyone, please, step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion,” says the man wearing the padded armour. The man beside him is slowly doing a counter check on each and every person walking out from the elevator unit and up the stairwell. For a second, Minseok seemed reluctant to follow his parents’ lead; even the voice of the one who calls himself the Overseer already comes off as threatening to him.

“No need to worry, folks. We’ll get everyone situated in your new home. Vault 326! A better future … underground!”

The inside of the Vault was larger than he had initially assumed it would be. There would be Vault-Tec Security personnel at nearly every corner of the Vault, along with doctors and scientists who would be too busy taking down their various observations on these would-be Vault Dwellers, a collective name they would be referred as for the rest of their lives, all the more if they would live inside this giant heap of metal if they wish to do so.

 

 

 

**October 23, 2287 - Minseok**

210 years later, and Minseok’s never felt any younger. Normally, he has never condoned the use of drugs nor does he approve of human experimentation. However, the scientists who have buried themselves in countless research down in Vault 326 have tested a new form of gene-altering serum - not only to him, but everyone else of age in the Vault - that aims to stop the aging process, from the moment the serum has been administered to the patient.

Their Overseer, a young handsome man named Junmyeon, had taken the liberty of trying out the serum first, for everyone’s sake. Back when he had been a child, Minseok never got a good look at their Overseer when he they had descended into the Vault. Maybe the look of the Vault-Tec Security in front of him had obscured any good looks he might have noticed had he gotten a closer look. Sporting little to no blemishes around his face, Junmyeon has done a good job preserving his looks for many centuries to come.

“Hey, good job today cleaning up the Nuclear Reactor; you managed to kill all those Rabid Mole Rats without getting hurt at all,” Junmyeon says, with a casual pat on the back as a bonus.

Much has gone on to become an understatement when it came to how much has changed in the Commonwealth. The ground zero of the nuclear blast of 2077 had become the Glowing Sea, where large Radscorpions and Deathclaws roamed wild and free; rumour has it that there inhabited people called Children of Atom whose religion lied in the radiation that had contaminated the place so long ago. Occasionally, the winds from the Glowing Sea would bring in Radstorms towards their general area; it’s cumbersome to all of them, especially to those who have to go out to grab supplies from nearby settlements.

Next to Raiders, Gunners and Super Mutants, Radiation had to be their worst enemy beyond the Vault’s walls. He’s only heard so much about the horrors that hid deep in deserted homes and historical buildings; he’s never got the urge to leave on his own accord until he and Junmyeon became really close friends.

“If you only knew, Minseok, what being an Overseer entails,” he sighs, leaning over old records he once sent to scientists and engineers who live separately from their Vaults.

No one - except for the two of them and probably a handful of the Vault-Tec Scientists - knows that Vault 326 had been intended to be a control vault. Control Vaults have been made to serve their true purpose to its dwellers - to protect them from the harmful effects of prolonged exposure to radiation. With the creation of RadAway and Rad-X, they could only do so much if they want to render themselves temporarily immune to its effects. Human beings, however, who had ended up surviving the radiative effects had caused them to become the zombies of the Commonwealth - Feral Ghouls, a name they’d rather be associated with - ones who had lost their mind as well as any and all sense of humanity that had once dwelled within them.

Other ghouls, such as Luhan who’s currently the Mayor of Goodneighbor, have been spared by the mind crumbling effects of radiation. Then again, it had taken away what used to be his undeniable good looks.

Junmyeon’s job as the Overseer of Vault 326 was a given. He overseen any and all tests and experiments conducted by their resident medical bay. He had volunteered to take the first shot of the drug that would stop himself from aging any further. After he had proved that there weren’t any harmful side-effects, Vault Dwellers wanted more of it until they had eventually lacked the resources to make more.

“The other vaults,” Minseok starts, he had been holed up in the Overseer’s quarters for the most of his day, all until he has to return to his personal quarters with his parents. “You mentioned they ran experiments on their Dwellers; does that apply to all of them?”

His usual routine with Junmyeon went from cleaning the nuclear reactor (a rare chance for the Overseer to allow his young Dweller to use a gun in the premises; he had personally rewarded him with a .44 Bull Barrel Pistol, something he would have to learn how to craft first before he got one to call his own), to scouting outside the Vault for scrap metal and animal meat (that had no trace of Rads, of course).

“I don’t know the full story, but there are less than ten Control Vaults in the country - three of which are located here in the Commonwealth. I can tell you, however, that all the remaining vaults have been made with random experiments that make them differ from one another,” Junmyeon replies.

In the course of 210 years since Vault-Tec had initially introduced their Vault system, the company had eventually ceased to exist. However, Minseok had already grown up with the initial mindset that Vault-Tec never had any good intentions when they had created this Vault before the nuclear war broke out. So, what would Vault-Tec want to do with these experiment results knowing they would not be able to last through the transitional years in between the time the bombs fell to the day that Vault Dwellers started to walk out of their Vaults.

“If you’re dying to know the full story,” he says, his fingers methodically running through some technical documents in his file cabinet. “I suggest you go out of your way to find them yourself: chances are the people who would go out of their way to stop you have already died, anyways.”

In the process, Minseok had earned himself a Pip-Boy as well as a holotape containing all the places he could visit that might just have all the right answers to his questions.

“The Commonwealth is a dangerous place, Minseok, though I’m pretty sure you already knew that by now.” He’s heard enough about Caesar’s Legion down in New Vegas and in some ways he’s thankful things around here haven’t gone to shit just yet.

“Now, go,” Junmyeon says, flicking a switch that boots up his terminal. “It’s better if you told your parents about this rather than just leaving without a word’s notice. Vault 326 will always be here should you need anything.”

 

 

 

**December 2287**

In all of his nights spent running to look for a small settlement or an abandoned Raider camp, Minseok can’t really say he had expected this sort of outcome when he had decided to leave the Vaults. A few days after he and Junmyeon had agreed to allowing Minseok to depart from the Vaults alone to seek answers, the first thing he had in mind was to revisit an old neighborhood, Sanctuary Hills.

Initially, he thought about the very high chance the settlement would have ended up in shambles, quite literally. He did not expect, however, that centuries after the bombs fell he would be reuniting with an old friend. He had easily spotted Clockwork from afar, the old Mr. Handy slowly making his rounds around the abandoned houses, probably spent most of his time keeping nuclear fallout-tainted floors waxed, or dusting a collapsed house.

It’s no miracle that the robot has been able to operate on a normal basis despite the radical effects of the nuclear explosion. However, with the usual cognitive abilities that these robots have been built with, there is no doubt there must have been a change that had developed over the several years it has spent staying in a neighborhood such as this - alone.

“It’s REALLY you!” Clockwork says, his voice slowly breaking down into soft sobs, all while his optics are glassy, still.

“You’re still here,” Minseok had almost been too delighted to be reunited with someone he’s known nearly all his life. This Mr. Handy had been an ingenue from the minute it knew how to repair their washer and dryer to making a perfect cup of coffee. It was only now that he’s realized in the course of two centuries, a lot could have changed.

“Well, of course, I’m still here. Surely you didn’t think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics International?

Of course, how silly of him to contest the lifespan of an actual robot. He nearly forgot that he had left Sanctuary and entered a time capsule that had leapt him deeper into an era when mercenary factions would rather depend on turrets and traps as opposed to sacrificing their men on the frontlines of an actual battle for supplies and a turf.

“But you seem worse for wear. Best not let your parents see you in that state. Where are they, by the way?”

Unlike others who have to - unfortunately - think about how to break bad news to a robot who has emotions built in them, Minseok doesn’t have to go through all that. He’s lucky they’ve all managed to enter the Vaults and survive two centuries living in it, for the most part. (A part of him wants to bring up the fact that he’s sick and tired of eating shit out of a Blamco Brand Mac and Cheese that the cafeteria staff claim has no trace of Rads at all - even though he knows they’re lying - but he’d rather not; not to Clockwork, he’d never approve of such.)

“They’re fine, Clockwork. You’ve seen better days, however,” he replies.

Clockwork paces himself uneasily back and forth between wilted plants and a overturned mailbox. “It’s been ages since we had a proper family activity,” he says, his voice oddly excited, “Checkers, or perhaps charades. Jongdae does so love that game. Is the lad with … you?”

After two centuries of being isolated away from humanity, he honestly couldn’t believe a robot who used to be his daily companion had reminded him of his best friend, and not anyone else - not even himself. His voice begins to quiver knowing he’s never really taken up the promise he’s made back then on their front porch.

“No, he’s not; we’ve been separated on the day the bombs fell. I haven’t had the chance to look for him just yet. I hope nothing has happened to him,” he replies. It’s rather unusual of him to confide himself in an old Mr. Handy, but in this day and age, beggars can’t be choosers.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Clockwork replies, softly humming at his observation. “You’re suffering from … hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for 200 years will do that, I’m afraid.”

“I feel fine, Clockwork.”

“That means you’re a little over two centuries late for dinner!” Clockwork replies, laughing melodiously, despite his outward appearance. “Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.”

The last thing Minseok wants right now is a piece of Salisbury Steak that came from a box straight from the fridge that’s now infested with Radiation.

“Clockwork, you’re acting a little weird,” Minseok initially wants to put the blame on the wiring; he’s most definitely wrong about that. Clockwork’s demeanour seems rather slightly unfitting for someone who’s been left alone for more than two centuries. “What’s wrong?”

Minseok is shocked when Clockwork starts to break down in front of him in sob. “Oh, sir, it’s been just horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve.”

“I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets out nuclear fallout from vinyl floors. Nothing! And don’t get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?”

If there’s one thing Minseok knows for sure, it’s that Clockwork can never seem to break away from his daily habits of cleaning up everything and keeping the place spick and span. The Mr. Handy’s probably breaking every protocol in General Atomics’ rulebook, if they ever had one.

“What do you know, Clockwork?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything, sir. The bombs came and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain that you and your family were .. were dead.”

That day had been a blur, that was for sure. He feels guilty at how they all left Clockwork instantly when they heard the news; it’s probably too late for that now, however.

“I did find this holotape,” he says, with a slight tone that reminded Minseok there was still hope amidst the horrifying aftermath of this calamity of a nationwide scale. “I believe Jongdae was going to present it to you, as a surprise. But then, well, everything ‘happened’.”

“A holotape? What’s in it?”

“I believe it’s a private message for you. My etiquette protocols would not permit me to play it for myself. Any standard holotape reading device should play it back. Oh, like that Pip-Boy on your arm. That should work brilliantly.”

 

 

 

**October 23, 2287 - Jongdae**

If there was one victim of hunger-induced paranoia, Clockwork could probably tell it was Jongdae.

Ever since he and his parents had been slowly adjusted into the Vault life, they started to care less and less for their son. The Overseer of Vault 921, a young inexperienced lad named Yixing had successfully kept them all safe and sound for more than two centuries. At least that’s what they want him to think

The nightmares have begun plaguing him a while before the bombs fell; fear had initially kept him from telling Minseok about them and all throughout his stay in Vault 921, he had been taken over by his guilt for not letting anyone else know but his parents.

He should have known it was a mistake to entrust his personal problems to his parents, knowing all too well that nowadays his parents would rather help out in the Vault’s daily operations as opposed to spending more time with their son. Life was something everyone had treasured all the more knowing they had been the lucky few that Vault-Tec had decided to keep to repopulate the new world above them.

Things haven taken a drastic turn when his parents would volunteer themselves to be sent out to the Commonwealth and salvage scrap for the remaining Vault Dwellers to use. Jongdae had absolutely no idea how his parents would have been able to defend themselves; every time they returned their signature blue suits would be torn at their sides. Whenever Jongdae would point out that they always came home covered in dust, they’d shake it off, literally. Confronting the Overseer had been of no help either. “They are only doing what they can to help out the Vault, Jongdae, I hope you understand.” He does, he really does. It’s just all rather unfair, really. Ever since then, Jongdae had become more vigilant than ever; he would take his time to talk to every individual Dweller personally and ask them about the things that go on in the Vault late at night.

“There had been a time when I went out of my quarters just to get a hot cup of cocoa from the cafeteria. What I didn’t expect, however, were Raiders out and about in the hallway, around five of them - if I remember correctly. It was in the middle of the night; I didn’t want to create a cause for alarm to the others. Fortunately, Overseer Yixing was in the area, when I had approached him and had warned him about the Raiders, he just laughed. He laughed at me! I guess he had brought them in, for what reason though? The Raiders were not hostile, and left a while after I ran into them.”

Why would Yixing have connections to a Raider camp? He’s heard countless stories from their resident school teachers telling children the horrors of how these mercenaries often tortured their captives. He’s read it on half-burnt outdated copies of the Boston Bugle - dated pre-war - that talked about the early rise of these gun-for-hire men. People had often yearned to know the secrets that these men had, especially their long-standing feud with the Gunners. He would admit, however, that he would never stand a chance should he encounter these men out in the open world.

“For a good couple of weeks, I kept hearing stories about this one Vault Dweller that was locked in our Nuclear Reactor.” Jongdae and the Dweller made it a point to discuss stories such as these in remote locations within the Vault. Technology could only pick them up through video and never including any audio; they were safe to discuss anything so long as they weren’t impeding anyone’s work progress.

“We have our own Nuclear Reactor?”

“Not sure if you really live in this Vault or you’ve been spending most of your time taking Jet, but yeah we do. Some other Dwellers told me there were two guys locked down there, we’re talking locked down there for good. You know how that place has always been locked, right? The previous Overseer kept that open a while back, until something fucked up and they threw two people down in it to find out what exactly happened; promising that they would eventually get back to them. Lo and behold, we already have a new Overseer who probably knows nothing about the whole situation.”

A similar situation had taken place in Vault 81 a couple of years ago; Jongdae had only heard the story through one of Yixing’s many group meetings. Vault 81 had been deliberately constructed to house a hidden partition that would be considered an extension to Vault 81 - specifically made for scientists. These Vault-Tec scientists had been tasked in creating a universal cure for all diseases. Unfortunately, instead of creating a cure-all, they were planning to deliberately infect people with newly-created viruses. They would isolate these people in observation rooms where they will document all the reactions through two-way mirrors under a 24/7 surveillance. However, the Overseer of Vault 81 - contrary to Vault-Tec’s strict standards - had sabotaged the phone lines when they were trying to announce the sealing of the Vault. As a result, not all of the scientists who had been invited were able to enter, except for two who had been left down in the hidden partition. They had been deliberately cut-off from the rest of the Residents and had been trapped down in the extension for good.

“Let me guess, the scientists died hoping they would still be saved by the Overseer, right?”

“It would have been highly unlikely for them to have survived, even up to the present day. Heaven only knows what lies in that old Reactor, probably Rabid Mole Rats or Glowing Feral Ghouls.”

Those had been one of the many stories he’s heard; those alone should have made him realized that there had been something off in Yixing’s rule as Overseer all this time, but no, a tiny voice contradicts all these thoughts; telling him that they would rather wait to see more of this, before he eventually leaves.

 

 

 

**November 2287**

Jongdae’s actions have all been but a blur to him; he can’t seem to grasp the reality that he had snuck into their own Medbay and stole all their freshly-produced stimpaks, RadAways, and several tetra-paks of their purified water. His memories had taken him back to when Yixing had handed him his very own Pip-Boy from so long ago; that had served him so well for the most part of his adolescent years. It was only a matter of time when Jongdae figured he had a weapon of his own, however; and had resorted to pickpocketing one of their resident Vault-Tec Security’s 10mm Pistols for his own use.

Escaping the Vault was no easy feat, that was for sure. He’s heard rumours about people talking about Yixing’s personal escape route from the Vault; ending up right in the middle of the Wasteland once they’re through. However, achieving this while remaining inconspicuous would force him to incapacitate the Overseer for a short amount of time, allowing him to leave without anyone noticing; that would be the last thing on his mind.

“If you wanted to leave so badly, you could always just ask me, you know,” Liyin told him at some point. The two were by the cafeteria one afternoon, spending their free time before they eventually had to assist in some of their expeditions out in the Wasteland. “Yixing and I are closely related, so I don’t think he’d mind if I asked him for his ‘easy way out’.” She’s Yixing’s niece, to be specific; she happens to be the only living relative remaining in Yixing’s family long before he had taken up the job of being Vault 921’s Overseer.

Jongdae would be lying if he said he had never considered the idea of using Liyin’s connection to Yixing, if it only meant he would be able to leave the Vaults easier than he had initially assumed.

The opportune moment arrived perfectly when Yixing left the Vault to accompany a couple of volunteer Dwellers to a nearby settlement. It was one of their scheduled exchange of supplies with either Tenpines Bluff or Abernathy Farm. It had been one of the few ways for Jongdae to have easily gained access to the Overseer’s personal quarters, especially with Liyin acquiring her own set of the Overseer’s keys.

Yixing’s rule as Overseer wasn’t entirely so bad, as much as he would like to admit. However, there was always something peculiar in their leader’s actions that would always make him question his way of thinking. Then again, if that was what had qualified him to be an Overseer, perhaps it would be better if he kept to himself instead.

“You’ll need the password to the Overseer’s Terminal; I’ve managed to copy the credentials on a small slip of paper and kept them in one of his quarters’ many unused lockers. Good luck, Jongdae,” Liyin says, they’re merely separated by the liminal space that divides the hallway and the Overseer’s quarters. “I really wish I could come with you; I’d love to know how it feels to finally live somewhere else besides here. Won’t you ever tell me why you want to leave?”

“I will, Liyin, but today’s not that day. Please make sure my parents receive that holotape,” Jongdae replies, he’s looking up at her from the Terminal and the two stare for a good while; he’s doing his very best to memorize every inch of Liyin’s face - the way her hair falls carelessly along her shoulders after working all day; she’s learned how to work to earn enough bottlecaps of her own, that was how Jongdae started to like her so much. “I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

The terminal kept a setting that was primarily used for the access of Yixing’s escape route. The round table that housed Yixing’s terminal and his personal files rose up slowly and there it was, a small stair that led him straight towards the signature metal Vault door. With a flick of a switch, the table made its descent back to the floor, as if nothing had happened.

He was out of the Vault, his only concern now was how to survive in the Commonwealth and its deadly embrace.

 

 

 

**February 2288 - Minseok**

“You would have been daft to not consider the Brotherhood of Steel’s offer,” Paladin Byun said.

It had taken Minseok a good while to make a name for himself - not just in the faction he’s already in - but in the Commonwealth as a whole. He remembers helping out countless people, clearing out several settlements and empty lots for people to seek shelter in, and had also spent some time with the Minutemen in their fight to support themselves from the many threats in the Commonwealth. It was only when he had a sudden encounter with a pack of ferals attacking a lone man in a Power Armour, that would eventually set him off on a path that would later allow him to become a prominent name in the Wasteland.

His first official mission with Paladin Byun had given him his first glimpse of the Institute through its main byproduct, Synths. Back in the Vaults, the Dwellers he had lived with had never mentioned this name; as if it was a known curse to all of them - except him. He’s had quite the experience in dealing with Feral Ghouls and other enemies he had encountered in the Wasteland, but never Synths.

_“This isn’t necessary,” Minseok said, as he held the modified laser rifle in his hands, admiring the tiny little additions he personally would have never thought about adding._

_“I insist you keep it. The Brotherhood believes in paying all of its debts,” Paladin Byun replied. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of small talk in the middle of the mission, but after all that has happened, there is no doubt within Minseok’s mind that he doesn’t deserve this kind of reward - he doesn’t see himself as the type who would go for such._

_“I wanted to make you a proposal,” his voice becomes stern in an instant. “We had a lot thrown at us back there. Our op could have ended up in a disaster, but you kept your cool and handled it like a soldier. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve got what it takes. The way I see it, you’ve got a choice. You could spend the rest of your life wandering from place to place, trading an extra hand for a meager reward. Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world. So, what do you say?”_

_His memories have instantly taken him back to that very day he entered the Vaults. The Vault-Tec Security that had stood by the gate had two men in Power Armor standing right beside him, ready to attack at any given moment. That may have been his first encounter with those men, but that alone was enough to cement the mindset that he wanted to make a name for itself, even if it meant hiding behind a large metal armour such as this._

_“I’d be honoured to join,” Minseok replies, and the rest was history, as they say._

Elder Park had gladly taken the liberty of offering one of their Vertibirds to fetch Minseok and Paladin Byun from the rooftop of the police station and right into Boston Airport where the Prydwen had been parked..

Suffice to say Minseok had been nervous throughout the whole flight, even though he had been tasked to use a minigun in case there would be any hostiles that would keep them from reaching their destination.

“The Commonwealth looks so different from up here, doesn’t it?” Paladin Byun’s tone almost comes off as endearing, sure. Minseok barely knows his commanding officer, but something sure tells him that this man may be more than being just all guts and steel. “It never ceases to amaze me how drastically your perception of the battlefield changes from the air. We’re gonna need that edge when we take on the Institute.”

_“The Institute? Who are they?” Minseok recalls asking Jonghyun, a spunky journalist living in Diamond City. Minseok first ran into him just when he had been locked out of his own settlement. After that, the two got along well just as the journalist knew the Vault Dweller had a backstory._

_“That, Blue,” as Jonghyun had taken to calling him, all because of the signature blue tint of their Vault uniforms, “is the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth. No one really knows who or where they are, but their handiwork is all over.”_

_Jonghyun had taken writing to more than just a liking, it was his way of speaking out; he would usually go out of his way to write articles that would usually spite those who felt guilty about the topic. Nonetheless, it’s his way of getting his opinion around town, even though not everyone necessarily took a liking to it._

_“Synths. Synthetic people. Sent from their hidden labs to do the Institute’s dirty work,” Jonghyun continues. Minseok’s not too sure what constituted ‘dirty work’; he’s not so sure he should be asking that question, either._

_“Sometimes they even replace a person with a Synth double. A little covert agent that no one would ever suspect.”_

_“Now, not everything that goes wrong has the Institute behind it, but there’s always a chance.”_

Before Minseok ever had the chance of walking out of Vault 326, he would admit that he had quite the naive side that knew little to nothing about the plight of the Institute on humanity and its future offsprings. Then again, ever since Jonghyun had given him a brief introduction on the whole feud, he can’t say he’s too excited with the whole idea. Especially since the reputation that Institute has always been known for: creating synths that could easily pass off as the replacements to the humans they kidnap and kill. The idea always shakes him to his core; instilling in him the fear that even his own parents could be replaced by synths in a blink of an eye and no one would even notice it.

“I wish everyone down there believed in our cause but they’ve been blinded by rumours and misinformation. They don’t realize that the Brotherhood of Steel is the Commonwealth’s last hope for survival. Every man, woman and child below is in mortal danger. If we fail, it is only a matter of time before the enemy overwhelms the population. Cleansing the Commonwealth is our duty and I will gladly spill my own blood if it ensures our victory.”

To Minseok, it all comes off sounding like a sad excuse for war. At the same time, he’s learned a lot about the Brotherhood of Steel coming from Paladin Byun alone, on his first Vertibird flight to the Prydwen, no less. If this is his ticket to clearing out the Institute, then so be it.

 

 

 

**March 2288**

If being promoted to Sentinel had its perks, it would be mostly centered on Elder Park winding down with the orders.

Ever since the two had a private conversation right in the main deck of the Prydwen, Sentinel Kim - a name his fellow brothers and sisters on the Brotherhood have taken to calling him - had been asked what his ‘next plans’ were now that he had managed to earn the second highest spot in the hierarchy of the Brotherhood of Steel.

“I’ve been holding off on these,” Minseok began; he’s not too sure how to break it to Elder Park knowing his direct superior has probably never been in direct contact with Vault-Tec or any Vault for that matter, “but I was hoping I could have some time on my own.”

Elder Park had been perturbed by the request; something he’s probably never heard any of his initiates tell him. “Is there a problem I should be concerned about, Sentinel?”

Looking back at every little thing he had gone through ever since he had started off as an Initiate in the Brotherhood, he had seen the dark side of the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood had taught him the dangers of allowing synths to slowly corrupt society; put man against man in hopes of thinking one would reveal themselves to be a synth or not. In reality, even synths sometimes had no idea where they came from - they live their lives not knowing their origins; they walk alongside humans not knowing how it feels to truly be one.

Sometimes he asks himself whether he’s doing the right thing or not - with the way the Brotherhood has them treating all these synths with such hostility. He immediately remembers Elder Park’s monologue from way back when they had all agreed upon ‘cleansing’ (such was the term he preferred to use; Minseok hated it) the Commonwealth from the plague of synths that had disturbed the peace.

As if the Commonwealth ever knew peace to begin with since the bombs fell back in 2077.

“No, not at all, Chanyeol.” The two have managed to establish a relationship that had been strictly first-named basis ever since Minseok found himself devoting more time to the Brotherhood; equally helping the faction grow and eventually becoming a force to be reckoned with ever since they’ve established themselves so long ago. “I just need some time to clear up on some unfinished business.”

Chanyeol hadn’t been so lucky when it came to learning the full story on where Minseok came from; Paladin Byun usually had more of the luck when it came to that. The two spent more time with one another during their missions, so often that they could each tell when the other was trying to say something with just a mere nod of his head. As a result, when the two had some downtime, Paladin Byun would usually ask Minseok things about his personal life - with his permission, of course. In exchange, his mentor would tell him his; directly related to that was how he had grown to have a distaste for anyone else in the Commonwealth that wasn’t human - synths, Super Mutants, and any and all ghouls. Elder Park probably would never have the opportunity to understand Minseok’s backstory, nor to have his Sentinel as his companion in battle.

“I probably shouldn’t keep you, then,” Elder Park replied. Maybe this was the invitation for Minseok to tell him all about his pre-war life; growing up with a stable family, and spending his free time with Jongdae. As much as Minseok would love to, though, he would rather not. Sadly, he doesn’t see Elder Park as someone he could disclose his past to, even though he is his direct superior.

Minseok found it rather accessible that he’s been given permission to freely use any of the available Vertibirds parked just beneath the Prydwen. It didn’t take him too long to ask one of the pilots to take him to the first location mentioned in the holotape Junmyeon had given him before he had ever left for the Wasteland: Vault 107.

 

 

 

“You’re literally Vault-hopping,” Baekhyun - Paladin Byun’s actual name - commented when Minseok patched through him through a stable radio connection in one of the settlements the Sentinel had stopped by on the way to Vault 107. “Elder Park’s gonna have a field day with you when he finds out.”

“He doesn’t know, Baekhyun; you’re not gonna tell him, either,” Minseok replies, laughing at the possibility of Chanyeol confronting him once he knew. He had chosen to spend the night in the very same settlement he found himself in when the settlers informed him about a Radstorm coming in that will last for a couple of days; so much for his consistent plan to Vault-hop once he got the materials he wanted.

“How are you so sure that I won’t tell him?”

“I’m not; I could bring you back a few bottles of Stout and Moonshine while I’m at it, though. There’s bound to be some in a Vault, hopefully.” He hasn’t heard much about the Vault he’s going to visit. He’s only ever heard from some scribe’s report saying that not all the Vaults have been abandoned in the span of two centuries; there is no doubt that some will have a couple of Raiders inhabiting the area.

“You shouldn’t be bribing your mentor,” Baekhyun replies in jest. One of the first few times Minseok had to go through a mission with the Paladin, he had planned to visit Vault 921; Clockwork’s voice reverberates in his head, reminding the young man what once used to be good times he had spent with Jongdae.

He and Minseok laugh for a good few moments. Spending each waking moment with the Brotherhood had eventually reminded him how it was to live once again. Back when he was a child, he had all these dreams for the future; who would have known that in a blink of an eye, he would lose nearly everything he had? Fate had been too cruel to them all; joining a faction such as the Brotherhood had only reminded him that they are still living under the same risk.

“Paladin Byun,” Minseok softly said on the transmitter. He had earned trust in his mentor ever since the two went on recon duty that had left the both of them injured and with no backups. This had happened long before the Prydwen had ever set foot into the Commonwealth, and the Brotherhood’s main outpost had only been Cambridge Police Station at the time. To this day, Scribe Doyoung, one of the three remaining members of Recon Squad Gladius - the other two being Paladin Byun and Knight Jaehyun - can’t seem to express their huge amount of gratitude for getting the Brotherhood to where it is today, all because of Minseok. “I trust that you’ll be able to seek out more Vaults for me?”

“Affirmative, Sentinel Kim. I’ll send word out if I find anything.”

 

 

 

**January 2288 - Jongdae**

It had taken him a while to get from place to place; fully aware that he’s got his foot in the grave while he’s running around the Commonwealth seemingly unarmed.

He had ended up spending most of his time resting in settlements that have taken him in out of sheer pity, much to his amusement. When the settlers noticed that he came from a Vault, they became wary at first; not knowing what people like him could do to them. What they didn’t seem to notice was how Jongdae needed to familiarize himself more with the open world, as opposed to keeping people away from him.

“If I may ask,” Jongdae says, approaching a settler whose appearance seemed disfigured. The male settler’s skin almost looks perforated yet wrinkled in some areas. He’s managed to force himself to hide the fear he feels, down to the shivers running along his skin, skittering away like new born spiders. “What’s the nearest major settlement from here?”

“If you’re looking to go for one of the bigger settlements here, it’s got to be Diamond City, son. I better warn you, though. Stick to the road as much as possible; there are a lot of Raiders and no-do-gooders out there, if you know what I mean.”

He does, and he doesn’t. The settler had marked the location on his Pip-Boy, but road paved to the major settlement is long and he’s unsure whether he’ll ever make it or not.

“Son, I don’t mean to intrude, but --” the settler sounded uneasy as he had approached the young Vault Dweller. “I always hear you talking to yourself in your sleep. Is everything alright?”

Jongdae hadn’t thought about the possibility - he had always reassured himself thinking that maybe because he had been drowning alive all this time in his dreams, maybe - just maybe - he wouldn’t be saying anything throughout the whole ordeal. If there had been a chance this has been happening for so long, why didn’t his parents bring it up with him?

“I must have been having quite a vivid dream back then, sorry.” His dream had been too vivid, but the settler wouldn’t understand. Almost two centuries after the bombs have fallen and the lack of proper medical care outside any proper functioning Vault is staggering. Especially with the lack of proper equipment and professionally-trained individuals who can help him; there’s almost close to no way he would be able to rid himself of his mind’s tricks.

That very same night, Jongdae had packed up his belongings and set out foot for Diamond City, following the main road as much as possible whenever he could see it on his Pip-Boy. Maybe he could get his answers there.

 

 

 

It takes him a couple of hours to get to Diamond City, with all the guards eyeing him warily. He hates how his Vault uniform gets him to stick out amongst the wreckage and dump lying around him. Luckily for him, the gates to the major settlement had been left open; he had been allowed entry into the city without having to be questioned by anyone in the security up front.

Diamond City gets its name from the shape of the walls surrounding it. The major settlement had started off as a baseball stadium - Fenway Park, until it had been converted to house settlers who now inhabit the place. Wastelanders often refer to it as The Great Green Jewel because of the radiant shade of green that’s painted on the walls of their settlement.

As soon as Jongdae enters Diamond City, someone comes up running towards him. “You! You came from a vault, didn’t you?” Somehow in a span of a couple of months, Jongdae has grown to hate how Vault Dwellers have been heralded as mascots ever since he’d escaped. The grime that had grown to become permanent stains on his uniform probably only added to the vintage effect it gave off.

“Yes,” he replies uneasily. “I came from Vault 921.” There’s probably no harm in telling which exact Vault he came out of. It wasn’t as if anyone from Diamond City would leave and report their findings to his Vault, right? The fact that no one hasn’t been looking for him in months must have meant that he wasn’t of significance to the Vault - he could have been easily replaced by some other Resident’s child.

“This should be good. You’re the second person I’ve met who also came from a Vault; I didn’t think more of those metal hellholes still existed to this day,” he replies. His demeanour seemed too unruly for him; he had been wearing a red trench coat and beret. He could easily spot a small pistol sticking out from his side pocket, the indentation inching up on the trench coat’s pocket. “I must ask you a couple of questions, if that’s alright with you.”

“Who was the first?” If there had been another Vault Dweller running around the Commonwealth, Jongdae would latch onto the slight chance he might happen to know them. Even though he’s slightly unsure of how many other Vaults are still in perfect working order after the nuclear war, knowing someone else like him is still alive brings so much comfort.

The young man falls silent for a few moments, trying to remember who he had his first interview with. It’s rare to come across anyone who can proudly admit that they know what Vault-Tec has been doing to its chosen residents for years; Jongdae alone has no idea what’s been happening to his, let alone someone else’s. He grimaces, scratching his head in resignation. “Shit, I never got to ask that one kid for his name. Ah well, I’ll just name him Vault Dweller and leave it to that.”

“Any features that make them stand out from anyone else you ever knew?” Jongdae feels he’s literally clutching onto his chances like a man who’s inches away from falling off a cliff with nowhere to hold onto. “There must have been something you remember about them? Even just one small detail?”

“I liked him; I liked him a lot. I called him Blue, the first time we met. He asked me what the Institute was, and what Synths were. He was quite the naive young man, really. He couldn’t stay long, though. Clearly, he had been preoccupied with his faction, the Brotherhood of Steel. Speaking of which, he wasn’t alone; a man in a power armor had been accompanying him wherever he went. His companion came off more like a bodyguard than anything else, really.”

“Was there nothing else besides that? Surely you must have picked up a name, or even a title from when he and his companion had been talking.”

“Come to think of it I might have. The power armor guy had been addressing him as Sentinel Kim, if I’m not mistaken. My ears have gone horrible after hearing gunshots nonstop, you know? It kinda sucks, that way.”

The surname Kim had been too familiar to be left unnoticed. He only happened to know one person with the same surname, but was it him? Had fate been too kind to leave them this moment to know that they’d soon see each other? How did Minseok manage to survive the horrible living conditions of his Vault? Or did he get the better end of the straw where he led a terribly better life - better than Jongdae did. Now probably isn’t the good time to weigh the options and complain about the other having it all easier. After all, he still isn’t sure that they’re referring to Minseok, for all he knows that could have been someone else entirely.

“The name helped, more than you ever knew. I don’t mean to be rude, but I never got your name,” Jongdae replied. It was a relief knowing someone had given him important information that’s pertinent to his journey. If he had really been referring to Minseok; Jongdae had done a really good job in forgetting about a good friend two centuries after a catastrophe had split them up. Other than that, he could finally seek solace in someone he’s absolutely sure would be able to help him get through this. Heck, Minseok might even have the connections to finding a cure for him, if luck happens to be on his side. It’s probably too early to be celebrating, however.

“That’s great; I’m glad I can help you with whatever it is that you need. Now, come on,” he says insistently, pulling at Jongdae’s arm, leading him inside his office building, Publick Occurrences. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about me and so much more,” fumbling with keys on one hand, keeping a tight hold on Jongdae with the other, “just tell me how you lived your life inside Vault 921 all these years.”

 

 

 

“You’re almost making this too easy for me, Jongdae,” Jonghyun says. He had introduced himself to the Vault Resident as the only writer for Publick Occurrences. Jongdae did mention, however, that the only time he’s ever cared about the news were those rare chances he’d get his hands on an old copy of the Boston Bugle; going all the way back to his days in Vault 921. These copies would usually be burnt up, and lack multiple pages that leave him with almost abridged versions of news segments.

Jongdae had gone back in time - with his stories, rather. He recalled the first few memories he’s had with his family; the times he’d spent hanging around with Minseok; experiencing proper schooling with Minseok, all until the day he told Minseok that he and his family had been assigned at a different Vault. They had separated since the bombs fell, but he’s never told him the one problem that has been bothering him for centuries, literally. He purposefully omitted the last detail, though. Jonghyun didn’t need to know that - at least, not yet.

“Why did you think Vault-Tec initially wanted to keep the two of you apart? Have you ever thought about that?”

It wasn’t as if Vault-Tec had been planning this for years. If he had to think about it, no one - except Vault-Tec - knows how they’ve been selected for the Vault project. Had there been a criteria for judging who would survive and who wouldn’t? Was this all based on their appearance? If they wanted to see who would survive longer than the others, then why didn’t they take in everyone and judge from there?

“To be honest, I don’t really know. Whatever it is, I don’t even want to know Vault-Tec’s reasons for it, either,” Jongdae replies. It’s not anger he feels; nor is it bitterness. Whatever it is, he’s confident in knowing some form of corruption has taken over Vault 921 - it was the main reason why he left; he couldn’t tell Liyin knowing she was the niece of Overseer Yixing. Of all people, it just had to be her, didn’t it.

“You said you left because of possible corruption taking over the Vault’s processes. Several of the residents told you what they have witnessed at random points sometime in their stay. But, what have you noticed? Save the stories you’ve heard from others - I want to hear what you saw with your own two eyes. Tell me.”

 

 

 

_He’s had all these thoughts running through his head. Day in and day out, residents chosen depending on the amount of their skill and intelligence would be placed in certain rooms to perform certain tasks. Whether it would be powering up the generators and maintaining a consistent power supply throughout the whole Vault, or keeping residents in a water purification room so they can easily spot whether their own water supply has been laced with copious amounts of radiation or dirt, simply. All these mundane tasks have been assigned to each resident in hopes of keeping their minds away from paranoia or panic; to allow them to understand that everything in the overworld has changed - but it doesn’t have to, down here in the Vaults._

_If each Vault had its own secret, Vault 921’s would be something along the lines of ‘replacing important members of the Vault to Synths - and proper documentation on the different reactions of the human Vault Residents’._

_The mere thought of it had been preposterous; were he to tell anyone else - most especially Liyin, she’d never believe him, even if the truth had been right in front of her all this time._

_He had started taking his chances on his parents. Hours before lights out, and they would be off telling their son that they’ll be out for a couple of hours - doing some work for the Vault, presumably. In the middle of the night, he would wake up and try to look for them. Most of the residents had been asleep by the time these had been taking place; it had been relatively easy for him to get around without anyone telling him off._

_One of the last places he thought to check was the Overseer’s quarters. Assuming Yixing was also a Synth would have been out of line - he initially thought. There was close to no way their own Overseer had been replaced by a Synth; there wouldn’t be any resident who would be sitting around waiting for that to happen._

_It did, and it happened to his parents too._

_He couldn’t believe it. He found himself sitting just a few inches away from the sliding door of the Overseer’s quarters; he could easily hear the three of them talking about matters he couldn’t seem to comprehend._

_“--how has the subject been reacting lately? Have you two been documenting them like I asked you to?”_

_“Affirmative. One of them has had several instances where our radars have detected potential hostile activity; he easily relented upon the realization that we could sense that with ease.”_

_“Also four shipments of both Jet and Mentats will be arriving in a couple of days; have the Raiders sent you a notice through your terminal?”_

_“Negative, or perhaps I haven’t checked,” Jongdae is almost certain it sounds distinctly like Yixing, however devoid of emotion or any other tone that would rival that of a normal human being’s. His parents undoubtedly sounded the same, as well. However, he can’t seem to understand who they’re referring to - he’s sure it isn’t him; he hasn’t shown them any form of hostility due to all his reservations. Now that he’s heard them loud and clear, however, he knows this isn’t something he can handle on his own._

_He had snuck back to their shared quarters that same evening, and had decided to record a message on a holotape, addressed to his parents._

By the time you’re listening to this holotape, I would have already escaped to the Commonwealth. Please don’t go out of your way to look for me; I’ll be fine, I promise.

I never thought that after living inside Vault 921 after two centuries would I be doing this - to you, to everyone living in this Vault. Surely, you would have asked for reasons why I wanted to leave so suddenly; why we never talked about this as a family; you two would have wanted all the answers and all the reasons I could ever give you. However, nothing - nothing will ever console you two from the idea that I escaped without ever informing any of you. Please, don’t drag Liyin into this; she had insisted her help in allowing me to escape.

I won’t make this long; I just want to ensure the two of you that I’ll be fine. I just need to sort out some things on my own, surely you can recall what they were - I told you two at some point before the bombs fell back in 2077. You never believed me, however, and shot me down thinking I had been too preoccupied with my thoughts or these nightmares would leave me as soon as they came.

They didn’t, and it’s been centuries that I’ve been experiencing them night after night - I’m surprised I’m still alive after all these nights. But, please, even I didn’t think they would last this long. I had gone out in search for a cure for this, even if it’s temporary; I just need some sort of relief knowing I can relieve myself of this nightmare forever.

Despite all this, please stay safe. It would be devastating were something to happen to you two while I’m away. I can take care of myself, I promise.

 

 

 

“Your parents had been replaced by Synths; and yet here I am thinking your story was about other people being replaced, and not one who are directly related to you. Jongdae, I’m terribly sorry,” Jonghyun says. How should one be reacting to this kind of consolation? He has asked himself this at least once a day ever since he had come to learn the truth. Does one deal with it with copious amounts of anger? Does anger actually do a good job in pruning out all the pain one feels when this happens? How many other people out there have experienced something similar?

Jongdae doesn’t realize that those people who’ve been in this kind of situation usually dealt with it instantly; what one would mean by instant can be likened to the swift pull of a trigger, and everything ends in a bloody heap mixed with bits of fuse and steel.

“Jonghyun, you don’t think what I’m doing is essentially running away from my problems, is it?” Jongdae asks. It’s rather peculiar that the son was the one who had volunteered himself to leave the Vault; choosing to live far away from his parents, rather than the opposite. However, he realizes his parents may not feel welcomed anywhere else; he’s unsure how other people outside the Vaults would react once they knew what they were.

The journalist takes a good look at the Vault Dweller. His office is covered in galvanized iron sheets, ranging from various colours, spread across each wall that can hide away large gaping holes the debris from the war had left them with. In reality, Diamond City isn’t so bad; the security’s shit, but - hey - everything’s fine, at least. They’re all safe from harm, for the most part, even though most of them are aware mercenaries can strike at any given moment.

“In some cases I would agree, but I did this to myself at some point and left on a journey with someone else for a while - thinking that I was a horrible influence on my sister, no less. I had feared she would grow up to be like me, relentless in pursuit for a good story, all while being reckless against those who do things just to spite me. I was ashamed of myself and what my personality had become over the years; but that person that had accompanied me made me realize that I can never change who I am; people just need to accept that. It’s tough; easier said than done, surely,” he replied. “But, no, if you felt that you needed time on your own to process all these; then I guess it’s alright.”

 

 

 

**April 2288 - Minseok**

As it turns out, Vault 107 was a mess, and eventually every other Vault mentioned in the holotape too. Minseok had never really considered all the inhumane reasons why Vault-Tec would want to pull these kinds of experiments on the people they chose as their test subjects. Had they done it out of pure selfish reason, then he’d have to think twice about mentally thanking them for being assigned to a Control Vault.

Gaining access into these Vaults weren’t easy; these were some of the moments he wished he’d never taken Paladin Byun’s companionship for granted so much. The two of them had easily taken down all the Raiders that resided in the area - mostly through means of sneaking around the Vault; spending more time taking the men out all at once, then looting them when they’ve cleared the area.

Vault 107 was created for the intention of housing the wealthiest people living in the heart of Boston; allowing each one to mingle cohesively with others who live similar lives. However, the scene that had welcomed Minseok had been far from what he had expected: the general design of the Vault had proven unfinished; the rooms had been cramped - probably expressing how these families would undergo a severe change in their lavish lifestyles for as long as radiation swept the overworld.

The whole concept of Vault 107 had begged Minseok to rue the idea of segregating the rich and the poor; preventing them to cohabit alongside people like him and his family - the middle class; the real ones who had been giving these people the kind of lifestyle they had been taking for granted. Given, the cramped rooms and shared bath and dining areas were a given; the scientists behind the Vault wanted to document how these people would be reacting to the lifestyle change. However, because the construction of the Vault had been generally unfinished, the terminals had never really mentioned any existing residents long before the bombs had fallen.

Next on the list was Vault 56. This one had been intended to house those who have been diagnosed with substance abuse, hoping this Vault can be a rehabilitation facility in the middle of the nuclear outbreak.

For the most part, according to the terminals he’d managed to hack, the Vault had been true to its word - allowing Residents to participate in weekly therapies as well as group discussions; allowing each resident to help the other cope. The Vault also had detox chamber specifically built for residents to be forced to break away from these dangerous habits.

However, what Vault-Tec failed to reveal to these residents was the existence of a sleeper agent amongst them. This sleeper agent had been tasked to cohabit with these residents for up to five calendar years, at which some point this agent will reveal to the residents the Vault’s secret stash of chems that had been originally located deep within Vault 56. Vault-Tec had specifically tasked him to document the immediate reaction of each individual resident as each one underwent a relapse. There was only one report in the terminal; it had been written the day before the five years have passed. He wrote it more like a diary than an official Vault-Tec report, eagerly coaxing the reader to anticipate the documentation, even though it never really came.

The last on the list had been Vault 112. He didn’t think Vault-Tec would create one beneath an elementary school; they did, anyways. Ever since he had entered the place, there had been little to no signs of anyone entering the place in years. He wonders how some.of the lights inside can still manage to operate properly despite all this poor upkeep.

The deeper he had ventured inside the Vault, the more the interiors gave off a battle arena vibe; very much unlike the cold walls he’s used to being surrounded by. Where did all the scientists go? Had there been any representatives or sleeper agents from Vault-Tec? Something seemed terribly off with this Vault and Minseok’s dying to know what the hell it is.

Various working terminals left in every Vault contained the list of the residents; giving ranked officials full access to whatever info Vault-Tec had gained from these people. 112’s was no different; Minseok easily found access to one that wasn’t locked. He hadn’t come across a terminal owned by someone from Vault-Tec, but one that was used by one of its residents.

_I didn’t think they’d kill all of them on the first day they opened to the public. I swear they didn’t._

Kill who? Minseok never came across any form of bloodstains on the concrete floors when he came in. It’s either they’ve dried up over the years or these people had been killed in some other way.

_I’ve never heard of a Vault that’s mostly filled with children. That would be us; all of us, children. You can say this would be Vault-Tec’s take on an orphanage; except they’re the ones who did all the killing. Vault-Tec Security wanted all of us in; to settle ourselves in our new home. It was all fun and games until our parents were called out for a meeting. We thought they were coming back, but then - the gunshots, there were all these gunshots. You can hear kids beating down on the sliding doors; someone locked us in our individual quarters, so that we couldn’t do anything while they killed our parents._

_They disengaged the lockdown a couple of hours after. The cries, though, you could hear them through the walls. The walls were thin, hollow; you could easily hear your neighbor talking if you tried. This was different; without even trying, you could easily hear everyone else crying - wailing, loudly._

_I write this a few months after the disaster took place, and so much has change in the Vault. They always reminded us, “Children are necessary for the future”. We didn’t understand why, but we sensed that we would be kept here for a very long time._

The next entry had been dated almost a year after the first log. However, the fact that Vault-Tec had initiated the execution of the Vault residents’ parents had been too atrocious enough to even think about. It had been highly unlikely for any form of intervention to take place, mostly because this Vault in particular was too isolated from everything else that’s outside of the school’s bounds; people wouldn’t have exactly noticed the hidden Vault unless they did a good job of going through everything.

_Vault-Tec Scientists have made their way into the Vault. They’ve announced that they’re going to be the ones who’ll take care of us and our needs. They kept explaining that they would also be the ones teaching us; we never realized our teachers had been part of those who had been killed, along with our parents._

_Most of those who took it horribly tried to rebel when they learned about the ‘new management’. As much as possible, those in charge of the Vault tried not to harm them, but when the time came when these kids tried to set fire to their office and records, they took them out, without an inch of hesitation._

_Since the first day of the Vault’s operation, they’ve been training us constantly - whether mentally or physically. They would have all these data on their battered clipboards, most of which are composed of numbers that we don’t really understand. Some have tried sneaking in and stealing them, proving to the others who are much less adept at these tasks that they finally have a practical use for them._

_Ever since the rebels tried to sabotage the scientists’ hard-earned work, however. They’ve changed; their handling became more strict and harsh. Daily training sessions were doubled than the usual. Most of those who couldn’t take it were tortured and kept in isolation. When the scientists thought they’ve been deemed fit for work, they’ll pull them out from isolation and back into rigorous training._

_As for me, you ask? How did I manage to survive all these atrocities? Simple, really. It was all about building a facade; those scientists would never understand what it means to see things that are being done right under their noses._

The log comes to an abrupt stop, just as he’s already reached a twist in the plot. When he doesn’t find any other succeeding log, he finally gives up and shuts off the terminal. The way Vault-Tec seemed to have treated the children who eventually grew up and became 112’s main residents fully makes up for the theme of the residence. Vault-Tec designed it to come out more like an arena as opposed to every other Vault in the Capital Wasteland just to prove how their plans aren’t necessarily limited to residential-type Vaults.

(It’s true; limited copies of Publick Occurrences have informed him of a cryogenic facility constructed deep within Vault 111. This meant Vault-Tec saved so much money and time creating less beds for the residents, and more for the scientists and security that lurked the halls day in and day out. Essentially, this begged the question on what would actually be recorded when uninformed people have been frozen alive for more than two centuries. It would only result in a disaster, and it did.)

The longer he spent his time roaming around Vault 112, the more the logs made sense to him. He finally saw the pile of skeletons lying in a corner atop a pile of debris. Those must have been some of the adults Vault-Tec had killed along the way. Who knows how many others they’ve managed to kill? So much of Vault-Tec’s atrocious experimentations have been revealed to Minseok in such a short span of time, he has no idea how to comprehend all these in one go.

The last room he enters in the Vault happens to be one that was primarily used by Vault-Tec, judging by all the chemistry stations he ran into along the way. Most of the tables housed broken terminals, except for one, located in a corner. He doesn’t have to wonder why some of the drawers also housed unused chems such as Jet and some other newly-created chems he surely doesn’t want to try. He had come across the only room that had been deemed inaccessible by every other Vault resident, their headquarters for 112.

One log could only be found stored in the terminal; it had been dated way after the last one he’s read. Assuming this can only be the last remaining piece of actual evidence he’s got; he finds himself with nothing to lose at this point.

_We’re fucked; Vault-Tec’s going to find out eventually that the kids we’ve pruned out to be the best and brightest turned their backs on us. They’ve been going on this uprising for nearly weeks on end. I figured it was bound to happen, either way. What else would kids who have been taught for years how to skillfully take out people stealthily without even having to use a Stealth Boy for that kind of execution? I must agree that our training facility had enhanced these kids to be potential killing machines if they were sent out to the Wasteland. For some reason, though; that never really happened. Vault-Tec swore they would come back to us with concrete answers, but they never did. Those assholes had tricked us into a false security; thinking that we’d be saved? Not on their watch; we’re easily indispensable in their eyes, so why would they even?_

Whoever wrote out this log, they gave away how Vault 112 had caved in on itself. Vault-Tec was training these children to be brighter and stronger than any other child that lived outside the Vault. But, for what reason, exactly? He has yet to find that out. Whatever it was though, it had eventually pushed these children to stage an uprising that took out all the Vault-Tec representatives in the Vault. Somehow, the kids had probably found a way to escape after that.

Just as Minseok leaves the confines of Vault 112, he receives Paladin Byun’s transmission, playing on repeat.

“Sentinel, I got one last Vault for you to check out. Vault 921. It’s not far from Vault 112; almost near the Glowing Sea. There are papers, too - you’ll need to read them. Meet you there on a Vertibird.”

 

 

 

Minseok didn’t think he’d find himself interrogated by Vault security upon activating the main door controls with his Pip-Boy. “Hold it right there, Vault 921 security. I don’t know where you got your hands on a working Pip-Boy, but you better start talking,” the man on the other side of the console says.

“I got it in Vault 326,” he replies.

“Vault 326? Haven’t heard of that one yet.” Coming from a security personnel that’s been cut out from the overworld for centuries; it’s no wonder he still has to put up with replies like these. Paladin Byun laughs cheekily behind him.

“And what sort of business are you looking to take care of here in 921?”

“I’m … just a traveller; thought I’d take a look around.”

“Is that so? And you expect me to believe that--Oh, Overseer.” He hears another voice talking; Minseok thinks that’s probably the Overseer, “Who is it?” he asks. The officer seemed flustered to reply, “Sir, some new Commonwealth traveller,” behind Minseok, Paladin Byun grunts; he hasn’t made his presence known, surely those they’re talking to had no idea Minseok had company with him. “Not one of our usual traders.” The Overseer replies, “Well if someone wants in, they have to earn it like everyone else.” The ambiguous reply causes the Sentinel and his mentor to take a good look at one another.

“Sorry about that,” the Overseer says, apparently having taken over the main console - as well as their conversation. “He was just doing his job. I’m sure you can understand our need for caution. For newcomers, we like to operate on exchange. You help us, we help you.”

Paladin Byun chides in softly behind Minseok, “Go on, work your Dweller powers on this.” The soft push he makes with his power armor gets him rubbing his shoulders in pain.

“But I’m a fellow Vault dweller. Can’t you just let me in?” Paladin Byun stifles a laughter from behind him; he’s never shown this kind of attitude back when he had been an Initiate in the Brotherhood, he feels slightly embarrassed at how he has to act this way just to get in.

“Excuse me, sir,” The officer’s voice comes back to the console. “Before you arrived, he did say he was from Vault 326, and he’s in possession of a working Pip-Boy.”

“Is that so?” The Overseer replies. There is a momentary pause that gets Minseok counting on every heartbeat as each second passes. “I’m gonna allow it. Open the door and make the announcement,” he says to the officer beside him. “Officer and I will meet you at the entrance,” he says, most definitely addressing Minseok.

 

 

 

The Overseer of Vault 921 had introduced himself as Zhang Yixing. He admits that over the years, the residents have grown to be isolationists, to say the least. There have been so many unauthorized entries that began decades back that paranoia had set in these people’s minds. Yixing had brought the two of them into his personal quarters, away from the security guards who might still be unaware about these things.

“Sorry about the confusion back outside; my officers have the tendency to act that way and turn away unsuspecting travellers and their caravans, unfortunately,” Yixing says.

In the short moments that Minseok had jumped from one Vault to the other, he had to admit. Vault 921 had its own quirks, but in the span of two centuries, they had still managed to maintain it in such pristine condition; as if the Vault had been newly built and deployed by Vault-Tec then and there.

“It’s understandable; the Commonwealth has grown into a dangerous place, I can see why you all had to exert the added caution upon entry,” Minseok says, eyeing Paladin Byun warily. The man clad in a T-60 suit of power armor nods in agreement.

Yixing stands from his seat, and proceeds to walk around the room slowly, pacing himself. “You have people out there - worried; fearing for their lives. Every day they have to think about who they are, and where they came from. We’ll never know; we can be taken away and replaced by the Institute at any moment. Who knows - maybe I’ve already been replaced, sometimes I wake up asking myself who the hell created me; where the fuck did I come from, and some other questions I’ll never get answers to.” At this point, Paladin Byun can’t seem to tell he’s sweating bullets just sitting inside Yixing’s quarters. Minseok’s unsure of whether he can immediately pull a weapon against a Vault Overseer, of all people; he’d take this chance, however, to ask all the questions he can.

“Why tell us all this, Overseer?” Minseok asks, fingers slowly reaching for a suppressed pistol from behind him. “Is there something we should know?”

Yixing stops in his tracks, leans against the wall while staring the both of them down at a distance. “I don’t know. You tell me,” he gestures towards Minseok’s mentor. “Your faction preaches about the death of all Synths, but I personally think they can coexist alongside humans, you know?”

The Brotherhood Paladin seemed to have had enough. “Enough bullshit and tell us what you’re trying to say,” he says, standing distantly from the Overseer; afraid he may have to pull out his laser rifle at him.

Yixing walks over to the two of them, slowly. “You came here for,” He says, gesturing himself, “me, of all people. Yes, The Institute had turned me into a synth a long time ago, along with some other residents here,” he opens his arms wide, as if trying to exaggerate on the idea that Vault 921’s residents are being replaced by synths, little by little. If Minseok has had enough experience with Vaults, he knows there should be a sleeper agent amongst one of them (if the residents haven’t caught on the plan just yet and killed them) to document the reactions of every resident.

The sliding door opens, causing all three to look at the sudden intruder. “Yixing,” a young lady yells out, running towards the Overseer. She approaches him slowly as she collects him in her arms. “Please, calm yourself; you’ve been acting like this ever since Jongdae had escaped the Vault without you knowing,” she says, guiding him back to his chair.

Minseok chokes on his words all of a sudden; finding himself struggling to speak. “Jongdae?” he asks, Paladin Byun gives him a disconcerting look when he hears the name as well.

“Sentinel, wasn’t he the one you told me about a while back?”

 

 

 

_The two had been on the rooftop of Cambridge Police Station, long after they’ve managed to take out all the Super Mutants surrounding Fort Strong with the pre-installed minigun on one of their Vertibirds. Minseok insisted they celebrated with a bucket of Gwinnett Stout Beer he had managed to salvage on the way back. He was a Knight back then; it had been so long ago, so it seems._

_“Knight, tell me something about yourself,” Paladin Byun says. His tone has changed from stern to relaxed instantly. Gone was his facade that consisted of commands and formality that often caused the two of them to end up silent on certain missions. Here, he was different; for one, he was out of his Power Armor. Frankly, it was one of the few times Minseok got to see his mentor in his standard Brotherhood of Steel uniform; it made so much difference in the air between them, however. His tone took a more relaxed route, almost as if he wanted to drop the titles and proceed to use their real names instead. “I’ve told you so much about myself that it’s probably criminal, at this rate.”_

_“Your mentee is literally a walking, living, breathing relic. What else is there to know?” Minseok tipsily blurts out. Jonghyun had probably said the same thing to him at some point; what’s there to be ashamed of? Some people have come to accept the fact that Knight Kim of the Brotherhood of Steel is apparently more than 200 years old. People wouldn’t usually give him the respect he deserves, given that he’s everyone else’s elder, in that case. But, he shrugs it off - he’s used to people that way. In some ways the new Commonwealth can really change a person’s perspective. Paladin Byun laughs; he knows that’s the truth, as well._

_“I was around six years old 8 years before the bombs fell. That would mean I was 14 when I first entered Vault 326. I wasn’t really too keen on having friends. In fact, I only ever had one close friend; his name was Kim Jongdae. He’s two years younger than me. Last time I heard from him would be a while before the bombs had fallen; he told me that he and his family had been assigned in a different Vault. That time, I knew, he was going to be safe from the nuclear disaster. It also meant, however, that the two of us would be separated for God knew how long. I didn’t think we’d both end up living in our respective Vaults for more than two centuries. Sure, we had that false security knowing we wouldn’t die from excessive exposure to radiation. Like any other person, though, you’d have that urge to seek him out, right? That’s normal, right?”_

_The more Minseok talked, the more his voice began to falter. The more he spoke, the more he had been able to rationally think about how much had changed in two centuries. He could have left the Vaults early, running under the risk that he could either: die, become a Feral or end up as a Super Mutant. Back then, FEVs probably haven’t even existed. Worse, he’d end up being killed by the Brotherhood of Steel were he to ask for their help. He had come to understand the error of his ways; he should have done something back then. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t have any idea of what to do, either._

_“Have you ever tried to look for Jongdae ever since you’ve left Vault 326?”_

_“No, it looks as if I never really had that as my priority. If it was, I wouldn’t have known where to start, either. The only reason why I ended up here was because I naturally wanted to gravitate towards a faction that would remind me of how a family works - the unit of a family. The Brotherhood made me realize that, albeit in possibly harder ways I could have imagine, but you get it.”_

_Paladin Byun nods, setting aside the consumed beer bottles back into the case. “Given the chance, would you go out right now just to find him?”_

_Minseok took a chance to get a good look at his mentor. Never in his entire life did he think that he would have been part of the Brotherhood of Steel. Had someone asked him this years ago before his life had been changed, he would have probably laughed at the person asking in their face. He knows better, now._

_“If I leave, would you be willing to tag along?”_

_The two of them share laughs and clink beer bottles; that alone serves him the answer he needs._

“Did you ever get to meet him?” Minseok asks, slowly approaching the young lady. Yixing had fallen quiet now, sitting comfortably in his chair. “Jongdae, I mean.”

The young lady nods. “I’m Liyin, Overseer Yixing’s niece. Jongdae and I have been really close friends ever since we both entered the Vault. Things haven’t been the same without him, really.”

“You talk as if things went well here for a while,” Paladin Byun chides in and Minseok shoots him a glare that gets the former shrugging it off. “Your uncle told us a bit of what had transpired in the Vaults before you came rushing in.”

Liyin glanced over at Yixing, to which the latter agreed. “I did tell them, out of sheer anger, I guess.” Minseok almost felt sorry for the Overseer; he probably didn’t ask for any of this to happen. Maybe - in some estranged way, Yixing wanted to do something good out of what he was just to benefit the Vault. Then again, he has no idea how the mind of a synth works; so who is he to even say anything about the issue?

“Liyin, do you happen to know where Jongdae might have gone to? Has he told you anything? Any clues on where he was planning to go to?” The thought of Jongdae roaming the Commonwealth alone reminds him of the first few days after he had ventured out into the unknown, literally. He didn’t think radiation would have reached even the simplest creatures and had turned them into Bloodbugs and Stingwings.

The young lady shook her head. “I would imagine you can start with the major settlements. Diamond City, Covenant or Goodneighbor. Other than that, I can’t possibly think of anywhere else he’d go; he was relatively unarmed when he left. He’d fair way better if he didn’t run into any mercenaries on the way.”

Minseok hastily stood up and collected himself before attempting to leave. “Paladin Byun, I’m giving you full authority to continue this investigation while I’m out. We can either meet here or at the Prydwen; your choice.”

“Sentinel,” Paladin Byun whispers as he slowly approaches him, like a child that couldn’t seem to leave his father’s side even for a few seconds. The two of them have been companions for so long, his mentor probably isn’t used to the feeling of being alone anymore.

“Baekhyun, this is the chance I’ve been waiting for so long. I need you to understand this.”

The Brotherhood of Steel soldier stood at attention. His Power Armor creaked softly from the movements. “I do, Sentinel. Ad victoriam,” he replied, performing the signature pose that only someone from the Brotherhood would understand.

 

 

 

Diamond City had been one of the three major settlements Liyin had asked him to check. He took no time in running across the Wasteland just to get there, trying to avoid all the conflicts the Commonwealth would throw at him. Time had been of the utmost essence, even though a part of his instinct feels he was already too late. If there was still a chance for him to reclaim what was left of Jongdae, he would - in a heartbeat, no hesitations.

When he reaches the market, everything remains the same. Takahashi continues to sell cup noodles on his stall in the middle of the marketplace; Myrna and Percy still both run Diamond City Surplus; and the familiar face behind the stall of the Commonwealth Weaponry - Arturo, continues to poke at potential customers for his wide range of things of sell. The first place Minseok runs inside, however, is Jonghyun’s office; he hasn’t heard from the finicky journalist in quite a while he figured the other might know something.

The first person he sees upon entering, however, was one his eyes haven’t laid upon in more than two centuries. Jongdae, his childhood friend, the young man who had escaped Vault 921 and lived to tell the tale - is the very same man he sees sitting by Jonghyun’s table, typing away on a rusted Carlisle typewriter.

“Jonghyun’s out to run some errands, can I take a message?” Jongdae nonchalantly says, not even sparing Minseok a good look while he’s preoccupied with his typing. “I said, can I take a--” he tries to repeat, but when he looks up, it’s not just a stranger he sees before him, but a strange face he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Minseok stands before him, just inches away from the table. “Tell Jonghyun I’m here for his,” his eyes hastily search for a nameplate, or even just a slip of paper that defines his position, “assistant?”

Jongdae cocks his head to one side, Minseok just smiles, all the while. “Liyin told me you left; she didn’t think you’d end up here, but I guess I had my suspicions.”

“You met Liyin? So you’ve been to Vault 921?” Jongdae’s fingers are still poised over the typewriter; his senses seem to be ignoring everything else around him, except for his clear, and unobstructed view of Minseok.

Jongdae had finally discarded the sapphire blue Vault jumpsuit, and opted for a clean pair of shirt and slacks he had managed to find in one of Jonghyun’s unused lockers. He isn’t quite sure of how that got there, but he ends up wearing it nonetheless. Minseok sees the pale skin that runs along Jongdae’s arms, completely untouched by the perpetual summer that hangs upon the Commonwealth. Meanwhile, Minseok can’t seem to say the same for himself.

“I ran here as soon as Liyin gave me her suspicions on where you might be,” Minseok replies. He finally opts to grab a seat from the other side of the office, just so the two of them can finally have a more relaxed conversation.

Except neither of them were relaxed; it seemed tense, even. Jongdae seems unsure of where to look: straight into Minseok’s eyes, or the fact his friend seems to be wearing a uniform that would befit a Captain of some ship, rather.

“God, Minseok,” Jongdae says, staring at him. “How long has it been?”

“It’s been more than 210 years, my friend; nothing has changed, hopefully.”

Jongdae rubs his temples; he didn’t think time would have allowed them to reunite after so long. This is his opportunity to get Minseok’s help, all while realizing he hadn’t even bothered to tell Jonghyun the same story, too.

“Truth be told, I have been keeping certain things from you. I wanted to tell you this before the bombs fell, but my family,” Jongdae says, the pain coming back to him quicker than a whiplash. Mistaking his parents’ ignorance for nothing was bad enough, after realizing they had been replaced by synths while they were all living under one roof. “I tried to tell them, Minseok, it was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made before the war broke out. I wanted to tell you; knowing you could be the only one who would believe me, but I couldn’t. The fact that we had been separated by different Vaults and an irradiated overworld was too tough to bear.”

Tears wanted to break away from Jongdae’s eyes, but he had surely tried his hardest to keep them in. “I’m sorry, Minseok, I tried consoling myself for a good couple of years - thinking it was a better idea to leave you out of this whole thing. Who the fuck would think leaving their best friend out of something that has been bothering someone for more than two centuries would be a good idea? I’m horrible, I don’t deserve this,” Jongdae continues, dabbing away at the tears running on the sides of his eyes.

“Well then, tell me everything, Jongdae. Or at least, tell me a bit of it so that I know what we’re dealing with. We can take all the time we need, I promise. I left someone back in Vault 921 to do my work for me in the meantime,” Minseok replies.

Jongdae gaze looks stern; grave all of a sudden. “Work? Did something happen in the Vault?”

“Everything is fine, Jongdae. There were just a few things we wanted to clarify with those inside,” Minseok replies. “Now, please, tell me what you’ve been going through all this time, so that I can finally help you out.”

“I’ve been having nightmares, and I was hoping if you can give me suggestions on where to go. I haven’t really had a chance to venture out in the open for so long, mostly because I wasn’t too equipped for the Commonwealth, really. I left Vault 921 in a flash; I only took what I really needed.” Jongdae fumbles through his pockets; his shirt obviously discoloured from age. A standalone piece of bubblegum sits on his hand, as he pops it in his mouth, Minseok’s not sure of whether these treats he finds lying around the house are either new or decades old.

Now this dilemma’s got Minseok rubbing his own temples in contemplation. “There is one place, but it’s in Goodneighbor; I’ve really never been there before. They call it the Memory Den,” he says. “One of the Brotherhood’s Senior Scribes suggested I visit that place - only if I was desperate enough to erase the trauma Vault-Tec had left me with; most of it occurred in my childhood, really.”

“Trauma?” Jongdae asks, inquisitively. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Minseok?”

“It’s no cause for concern, really. Right before I got here, I was literally Vault-hopping; from one abandoned Vault to the next. I seemed to be desperate to learn the dirty tricks Vault-Tec did to its former residents. I just needed that kind of closure, you know?”

“To what end, Minseok? Vault-Tec had ceased to exist for centuries; unearthing these truths may have given you closure. But those people they … killed, or experimented on,” Jongdae replies, his voice breaking little by little, “they will never get the justice they deserved; we’re way past that time.” When he stops talking, the tears have fallen; he knows. He precisely knows the feeling of being experimented on - or at least being directly related to people who have been experimented on by Vault-Tec along the way.

Minseok’s senses were urging him to comfort his friend, then again, the amount of time that had caused the two of them to drift apart was bound to happen. Neither of them probably didn’t think the pain would amount to this much. The rift had been too huge to patch up simply with an untimely reunion.

“Just .. come with me to Goodneighbor,” Minseok softly replies. “We can talk about the rest either on the way there, or when we’re there; whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

 

 

 

**Present Day**

“Goodneighbor’s Mayor suggested The Dig would be a good place for us to talk, ever since they’ve cleared out the place of mercenaries and thieves, according to him. I don’t know the finer details, and I truly have no intention to, anyways,” Minseok says, holding up a mug filled with beer. Beside him, Jongdae looks distraught, probably worried of what’s about to happen.

On the way to Goodneighbor, the two had only talked when it was pertinent to the journey. Other than that, it had mostly comprised of Minseok taking the lead between the two of them, and doing most of the cover for Jongdae to safely make his way to the other settlement.

(“Please tell me you’re planning to stick to the main road,” Jongdae begs. The two are hastily scrolling on their Pip-Boy for potential ways to get around the enclosed area that surrounds Goodneighbor. “I’m really not used to dealing with Raiders, you know that.”

“I hate to break it to you, Jongdae,” Minseok replies, looking up from his Pip-Boy, “but there is really no clear main road leading to Goodneighbor. There will be a ton of abandoned buildings around the area though, so expect tons of Raiders and Super Mutants along the way.”

His reply gets his friend groaning in immediate response. He’s already had his chance to run away from most of the Raiders he had encountered on the way to Diamond City. Minseok knows he’s the type who would rather take on Glowing Radroaches and Ferals, though, as much as Jongdae hates admitting it.

“I’ll cover you, I promise. Just run to somewhere far and safe; you’ll never know when Super Mutant Suiciders can come running after you in no time.”

Minseok begins to run into what they assume to be the direction towards Goodneighbor, all while Jongdae groans and immediately asks himself why did the Memory Den have to be there, of all places.

Needless to say, the two had emerged unscathed, for the most part. Jongdae had incurred some minor scratches and burns from some of the grenades the Super Mutants threw at them at some point. “Nothing a few stimpaks can’t fix, right?” Minseok chides in, injecting Jongdae with the familiar fluid without any prior warning. Jongdae cringes at the thought of having multiple needle holes sprawled across one arm because of all the stimpaks one probably had to use up while roaming around the Commonwealth.

“Come on, we’re near. I can see Mass Fusion coming up around the corner,” Minseok says, laser rifle on one hand and Jongdae’s arm on the other. For the first time in a long time, this is considerably the longest Jongdae’s been out; without having to seek shelter in a nearby abandoned settlement to recuperate.)

With Minseok, everything feels considerably different; the sun beats down on his clothes a lot more, now that the two of them are walking out in the open, where they’re always at the risk of being attacked at any time. He can see his friend’s skin glistening from the sunlight. The heat doesn’t seem to be bothering him, either. With the cool breeze coming from the north, this is fine; he can get used to this.

“Remind me again what you had in mind,” Jongdae says, passing his empty mug over to the Protectron. “I was too busy admiring the sights on the way here.”

“There was literally nothing to see; I don’t know what you’re talking about.” True, there had only been mountains upon mountains of debris and trash, as well as poorly-built Raider structures that had been emptied out ever since Minseok had cleared them all in one fell swoop. “The Memory Den is just outside, but please, take your time. I don’t want to force you if you don’t want to push through with it.”

“You mentioned a name, didn’t you? The famous Dr. Kim, the only one who could pull this off, right?”

“Yeah, apparently Dr. Kim performed this one procedure involving a Synth’s cybernetic brain augmenter - basically his hippocampus, that’s still alive. He had this one experiment involving Detective Kyungsoo and Changmin. I forgot the rest, but it went really well, surprisingly.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad, I guess?” Stereo is in front of them wiping up the canisters he’d just finished washing. The Protectron made odd beeping sounds that could probably mean something, but the two men look very disinterested.

“Everything will work out fine, I promise. I’ll even sit in one of the Memory Loungers and see to it that everything’s well.”

“Can you do that? Can you see the nightmare if they played it in my head?” The idea of Minseok partaking in the same dream could get him to realize how much of a disaster he goes through every night. It’s probably unfair at his part if he used these nightmares to get people to sympathize for his case.

“I don’t know for sure; we can ask Dr. Kim if you really want to.”

 

 

 

When Jongdae meets Dr. Kim, the nerves start to pool in his stomach, ready to burst out. The proprietor of Memory Den ushers them down to her office by the basement, where two Memory Loungers have been set aside almost by fate.

“Dr. Kim?” Minseok calls out, peeking into the room where she seems pre-occupied with other things.

“Yes? I take it this isn’t a social call?” he replies, not even sparing a glance to the one who asked.

“You’re the one who can extract memories from a brain, right?”

Dr. Kim seemed perturbed at the self-explanatory question. “Normally, we only allow our clients to experience their own memories. Now what’s this all about?”

“This may seem like a longshot,” Minseok continues, clearing his throat in the process. Beside him, Jongdae paces himself around the room, slowly, observing every piece of equipment Dr. Kim supposedly uses for his experiments. The fact that there seems to be barely any material that would constitute any sort of probing into his head, makes him slightly relieved at the thought. Then again, a single word coming from Dr. Kim could probably change the face of the experiment he would have to go through. “My friend here, may need your help in extracting the memories he’s accumulated from his dreams.”

Jongdae sits himself down on one of the couches near the doorway when he sees Dr. Kim giving Minseok a good look. “Dreams are such peculiar sensations; I think you would agree. These memory simulators only ever require intact, living brains to function. I’m guessing the friend you’re referring to is the one seated on the couch?” He says, gesturing over to Jongdae, the latter responding with a nervous glare.

“Yes, He tells me the dreams began even before the war. Think your simulator can get us to that point?”

Jongdae can’t remember exactly when the dreams started, but he believes the day the bombs fell would be a good place to start. From there, they can backtrack to the remnants of the dreams he’s had a few days before that. If they ever manage to find the specific time it had started, maybe they can end the whole ordeal from there.

“As long as there are stable memories from that time period that the simulator can cling to, we can definitely get it. Come,” he says, slowly gathering up Jongdae and leading him to one of the Memory Loungers. “Will you be following suit, Minseok?”

“Can I? Does this mean I’ll be able to go through the dream sequences just like Jongdae does every night?”

Dr. Kim nods at the query. When Minseok settles in the Memory Lounger, he leans forward, urging the doctor to approach him for one last request.

“Is there any chance you can extract some of my memories too? For no specific purpose really, I just need my companion to see something for himself.”

Dr. Kim raises his eyebrows. “Odd request,” he replies. “Your call; we can run both your cognitive functions on parallel anyways. Jongdae will act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can unearth. Just tell me which part of your life we’re talking about here.”

 

 

 

When Minseok wanted to ask Jongdae if he could partake in the latter’s dreams, he really didn’t think they would be this strange. If anything, Jongdae should have told him about this earlier. But, at what cost? Goodneighbor didn’t exist until 2240, long before the two of them had ever left the Vaults. It was a given to know that most of Goodneighbor’s population consists of ghouls because they were the ones who have managed to remain sentient despite being turned down by Diamond City.

“Can you hear me?” Dr. Kim says from somewhere deep within Minseok’s head. He finds himself conscious, but cannot see himself belonging inside a body; only his mind remains the only thing he can control from here on out. “Listen, your conscious state will be the only thing that will allow you to go through Jongdae’s memories as if you’re the one experiencing it first hand, albeit in his body, of course. From here, the more you go through the original state of his dream, the more I can extract it from his memories.”

“Are you sure this is safe?” Minseok can practically hear his mind talking without having the need to use his voice, or his lips for that matter. Jongdae has still remained quiet ever since the two of them have entered the simulation. “I’m just saying it would really suck were something to happen to me while we’re both in here.”

“Relax; it seemed like Jongdae had gone through the same dream every night after it had started, and look at him. He’s alive and kicking; I’m surprised this hasn’t gotten to him over the years. If nothing happened to him, I’m absolutely sure nothing will happen to you. Besides, you’re going in here without a body, so all the more you’ll be safe.”

It already feels like an ordeal; being subjected to all these different sensations, he thinks. The minute the dream causes him to plunge into the dark depths of the ocean, he already feels like he could die at any moment. How on earth can Jongdae live through this, every single night?

He can’t seem to count how many times he wishes he could pull out of the dream with just the press of a button. However, Dr. Kim had reassured him while he was supposedly ‘brain dead’ on the ocean floor that he can always skip the dream, albeit at the risk of these memories remaining in his brain in case he skips them. From here, he’s given a choice between what he would want for himself, or to fully immerse himself in his friend’s dream that can soon leave him once he’s all done with this.

“No, I’d rather go through this as intended. There’s always my memories afterwards, anyways, right?” Dr. Kim replies with a hum as his affirmation, admiring the fact that Minseok would go through with this even though none of them know that the famed doctor can also see the whole ordeal for himself.

When the dream ends, and the two of them remain in a suspension where they cannot see anything. Minseok can only hear Dr. Kim’s voice on his end. “I’m sorry you had to subject yourself to that, all for your friend. That is very admirable, so to speak.”

Light flashes before the two of them, like a television turning on for the first time since it has been purchased. From here, Minseok can hear Jongdae’s conscious thoughts from the other side of the Memory Lounger. “Minseok, are we not done yet?”

It seems that even though Minseok had to go through Jongdae’s dream, the latter had not been subjected to the usual amount of pain and stress it usually left him with at the end of every evening. Rather, the dream had latched its effects onto Minseok, however only once; Jongdae would never have these dreams ever again, at the same time, Minseok now had full knowledge of what sort of pain his friend had gone through for centuries.

“I don’t think so,” he replies, feigning awareness that he and Dr. Kim had previously discussed this long before the simulation had taken place. “Let’s just see what the simulation has for us.”

 

 

 

_The scene is familiar: the skies had been clear as day, all the houses back in Sanctuary Hills as are they should have always been. They’re standing upright, stable and have people living in them._

_Jongdae sees the two of them sitting outside his house, just like old times. He sees the Blast Radius board game he oddly recalls he had never taken with him when the bombs fell. Can board games survive a nuclear fallout? There had been times when he wanted to visit Sanctuary Hills, just to see what it would look like now that everyone who used to live there had either died or turned into a Feral Ghoul. Either way, two centuries living far from his own home had its consequences._

_The more Jongdae approached his vision of him and Minseok as children, a voice echoed throughout the whole scene - like a narrator giving out the backstory of an action-adventure tale that would change their life from that day on. It was, to some extent. There he was, roleplaying with Minseok, thinking the two of them could be like Jangles the Moon Monkey and would have the chance to be sent to space; to walk on the surface of the Moon; to be famous in the eyes of everyone around them._

“Back when we were kids,” the voice started, even softly laughing at the process, “I honestly used to think we were brothers; that some villain out there must’ve separated us, in fear of us realizing what we could do when we’re together.”

_Jongdae’s conscience looked like a kid that had been let loose in a candy store; he could not stay in one place for too long. A part of him fervently wished to explore every nook and cranny of the memory sequence, not knowing it wasn’t his; he had just been given the permission to partake in someone else’s for the time being._

The voice had continued to speak from above. “I wasn’t the type of kid to have a lot of friends. In fact, you were the only one I invited for my 7th birthday. That day, my parents had been itching to get me to school early, all whilst I had been too busy working on your personalized invitation - the very same one I handed to you one morning. I loved how we had these things and so many more - that we could treasure personally. Imagine that: two kids who had so much to share to one another that not even their parents can get in their way.”

_In an instant, the scene had changed without warning. Jongdae had been too busy running his fingers through the old books his room once had, most of which he recalls sharing with Minseok at some point. The two have always had a love affair with books, so much that this fueled their imaginations to no end. Who would have thought their imaginations would have led them to a new version of the city they onced lived in - sporting 50’s fashion, all while harboring the technology that would befit an age light years away from this._

“Imagine the chances of falling in love with someone you know so well; someone who’s always treated you like their best friend for life. Sometimes I truly wished I had visited you in Vault 921 way earlier than things have turned out; we could have been unstoppable while traversing the Commonwealth. But, you know, I kinda like being limited to your best friend all the same. It’s like I carry my own secret that I can never seem to tell you, otherwise I’d be running with this risk that could ruin our relationship permanently.”

_The memory that flashes before their eyes is one that’s familiar to the both of them. It was that time Minseok had gone over to Jongdae’s place to tell him about the Vault-Tec representative who had just paid the latter a visit as well. Jongdae remembers how this all went; him repeating the spiel of the man in the trench coat. At the end of it, the young Jongdae broke the news to his friend - the two of them had been assigned in different Vaults. None of them would have known when the bombs would fall; they could be separated without anyone telling them beforehand. It was then Jongdae had realized the feeling of how crushed Minseok was when he had learned that._

“If there was an option to storm the walls of Vault-Tec and ask to be reassigned to a different Vault, I honestly would have taken that chance. There had been a brief moment when the two of us just stared, not knowing what the future held for us and the Vault we would soon reside in. It was only a twist of fate that had brought me to a Vault where everyone would have been spared from the horrible experiments. At the same time, however, it was then I realized that the others weren’t so fortunate enough to have ended up the same way as we have.”

The voice that started its narration with a confident tone, had suddenly taken more of a solemn one instead. “Right then and there, when the two of us were just sitting beside each other. I wanted to tell you what I really felt, before the bombs could have ever separated us. But then, everything seemed awkward from then on. I didn’t think something like this could have hindered from us being bicentennial lovers.”

_Everything froze when the voice had stopped talking; Jongdae’s conscience couldn’t move a muscle either. There was an old TV set from where he stood, and immediately it whirred to life, revealing a screen filled with static, but no noise had emerged from the speakers. From above, he could hear a different voice._

“Just enter the TV if you want to leave the memory simulation.”

 

 

When Minseok finally leaves the Memory Lounger, he noticed that Jongdae was still reclining in his, fully immersed in the memory sequence he found himself stuck in. Dr. Kim had reassured him that it would take a while for the two of them to be able to reacquaint themselves with the overworld - considering they’re the only ones who have ever done something like this in the doctor’s entire career.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Kim asks, holding a first-aid kit in hand just in case. The glass enclosure of Jongdae’s Memory Lounger slowly ejects with a soft hiss from behind the two of them.

“I’m fine, Doctor. I think you should tend to Jongdae first; he probably had no idea what to expect,” Minseok replies.

“So far, however. This is good,” Dr. Kim replies, observing for any signs of side-effects on Jongdae’s physique and cognitive functions. “I want you to keep monitoring yourself, though. We have to be sure there’s no long-term damage. Are you ready to talk about what happened in there?”

Assuming Dr. Kim had seen all the memories on a third-person point of view, Minseok can’t probably mention anything else that could give the doctor any more information that he doesn’t already know. “I think we’ve got what we wanted,” he says dismissively, with a tone of approval.

“Alright, then. I’ll head on upstairs with the proprietor; I should give the two of you some time to talk privately,” he replies, leaving the two of them alone in the basement. He had probably realized Jongdae’s explicit recall of his nightmare has left both him and Minseok perturbed at its long-term effects. He’s not even going to bring up the things he had heard when Minseok’s memories began playing itself in the simulation; that was a different story entirely.

 

 

 

“What you said back in the memory simulation, was it all true?” Jongdae asks. The two are back in The Dig a while after Minseok tried compensating Dr. Kim’s efforts with nearly 500 bottlecaps for all the trouble. As much as the doctor tried to refuse the payment, Minseok reminded him that he’s done far more than he had ever imagined; besides it’s rare enough he had found someone other than Jongdae who would find these experiments to be wholly interesting.

Recalling the whole ordeal back in the Memory Den only causes Minseok to burst into laughter. “I couldn’t have said all that out loud, sadly. Thankfully I was able to talk Dr. Kim into helping me out with this; I wouldn’t have been able to tell you otherwise.”

“So, all this time, you’ve been harboring these feelings for me? Why me, though? Of all people, Minseok?”

“Don’t tell me you’re being too naive to understand; you know god damn well why I would, Jongdae.”

If it hasn’t been obvious over the years: the times they had roleplayed in his room; the two of them talking about trivial things by his front porch; days where their only companion in school would be one another - Minseok thinks there had been too many opportunities.

“We were kids back then, how would you have known? I’m not discrediting the things you had in mind, but I must’ve been too overwhelmed because we haven’t really seen each other in a long time and yet I’m learning all these things; it’s just so overwhelming.”

“I understand; I’m sorry, Jongdae. It’s out in the open but you should know that I will always have these feelings for you, no matter what. Just … take your time and take it all in slowly; this must be hard for you to accept.”

Minseok’s Pip-Boy whirs to life when an automated message coming from a signal he can’t seem to recognize starts to play without warrant.

“Sentinel Kim, come in, Sentinel Kim. Automated message repeated. There have been new developments; please return to 921 as soon as you are finished.”

Minseok rushes back out to Goodneighbor, with Jongdae following almost helplessly. “Wait, are you going back to the Vault? Please, I’d like to come with you.”

Outside, it’s still in the middle of broad daylight when Minseok realizes he found himself running from place to place this whole time without a full day’s worth of rest. It would be unfair if he would keep Jongdae from his own home, from all places, too.

“If you want to come with me, you need to understand something. I’m a part of the Brotherhood of Steel now; I may have to make choices that of which you might not possibly agree with. I only ask one thing of you from here,” Minseok looks at him closely, ignoring the fact that some of the residents of Goodneighbor have been stealing glances at the two of them from time to time, just so they’re clear these two are not suspicious visitors.

“Of course, enlighten me,” Jongdae replies.

Being part of the Brotherhood of Steel demanded Minseok a demeanour that would set himself apart from every other Initiate that would join them right after him. Some would call it brainwashing, others still believed their morals were apart from what the Brotherhood wanted to believe. It was being fluid; he only sought out to finish the task at hand if it meant reassuring that these synths they were dealing with would never be a menace again. If the mission wanted him to kill synths only as a means of affirmation of what they are, regardless of the good that they’ve done, he wouldn’t have done it. This was the reason for one of the many times he and Paladin Byun had ended up arguing all the way until they’d get to the Prydwen; they’d usually quiet down when they would be in front of Elder Park, and back to arguing once they’ve been dispatched for another mission.

“I think it’s best I explain this on the way to the Vault; it’s going to be a long story.”

Vault 921 was a mess the minute the two had arrived. Somehow Paladin Byun probably got around to calling in some reinforcements from the Brotherhood; Minseok didn’t think he would receive a welcoming party while heading in.

“Sentinel,” one of the Brotherhood Scribes said when the two had been barred from crossing the bridge that would lead them back into Vault 921. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

“Well, we did,” Minseok’s looked seemed grim based on Jongdae’s peripheral vision. Was this what he meant by ‘taking to adopting morals he really wish he didn’t have to’?

(“The Brotherhood gets me adopting morals that I really wish I didn’t have to; talk about a proper code of ethics. But, really, who else out here in the Commonwealth even has one of those these days?”

There is a significant lack of religious following or a cult - except for the Children of Atom - that the citizens of the Commonwealth ever do follow. So, it seems rather useless to speak of what can be deemed as right and wrong when there are no ethics made prior to all that? Maybe some have made ethos for those, but when you’re faced with heartless synths and mercenaries who only want you for your money - maybe that can change your mind about the whole ‘ethics’ idea.

“I usually go out on these missions with Paladin Byun, you’ll meet him in the Vault; and he seems to share the same belief as the Brotherhood does. Sometimes, it really ends up in a huge conflict - one wants to spare the synth, the other one almost always doesn’t. I think you should know how this ends.”

They’re a few kilometers away from the Vault. At this point, the two of them are stuck staring at the direction that leads them back where they need to be, slightly ignoring the fact that dark clouds have crept over the area; the skies grumbling softly.

Jongdae looks over to the Brotherhood Sentinel. “You can’t possibly--”

Minseok looks back at his friend, the lone Vault Dweller. “I won’t; if you really knew me, you’d know.”)

“Paladin Byun is expecting me, Scribe, don’t make me repeat myself,” Minseok says dismissively. When the Brotherhood Scribe turns pale at the threat, he steps aside, even allowing Jongdae access without needing to interrogate Minseok’s companion.

“Baekhyun, what happened?” At the end of the bridge, Minseok comes upon Paladin Byun standing alone, everyone else in the Vault seems to be displaced somewhere else. “What’s with the reinforcements from the Brotherhood?”

“We should probably head inside; you might not want to hear the plans I have in mind out here,” his mentor responds.

 

 

 

“Typical. I should have known you’ve had this in mind all along; won’t you give me a chance to decide, for a change?” Minseok didn’t even have to blink in fear for what Paladin Byun had in mind for Yixing and the rest of the residents who have been replaced by synths.

Jongdae and the two of them were back in the Overseer’s quarters. Baekhyun had suggested Liyin and the Overseer move to a secluded quarter of their own, somewhere deep in the Vault - he knew things would soon get out of hand as soon as he had requested backup from Elder Park.

“Listen to me, we can still change how this ends, Baekhyun. We can pretend we took out all the synths and have the Scribes sent back to the Prydwen. But, in reality we’d only be asking them to cut their ties with all the Raiders and Gunners; their supply of chems would be severely limited. That’s it, they can continue to thrive in their Vault; we’ve sort of proven these synths can easily deal with manual labour anyways, right?”

Jongdae approaches the man in the power armor, his fingers slowly running along the rusty finish of the metal suit. “This happened all because of me, Baekhyun. Please, I’ve come to understand things more clearly now; you don’t have to kill them.”

In an unexpected attempt to answer the two young men, Paladin Byun rolls his eyes at the both of them. “You two are one and the same, you know that? I wasn’t planning on killing them. You heard Overseer Yixing loud and clear before you left, right? If he could admit to being a synth, he would have no fear exposing himself of his own faults. We’re sparing them; I only asked Elder Park for reinforcements because I figured he would want some drama mixed into this, knowing we could easily take them all out.”

Minseok’s eyes widened, “That was a little anticlimactic, don’t you think?” The unwarranted comment gets Baekhyun and Jongdae laughing in response.

“Great, I think we’ve settled on a consensus then,” Paladin Byun replies, leaving the Overseer’s quarters, probably headed for Yixing to tell him of the plan.

Jongdae glances over to Minseok, where the latter finally seems to have finally collapsed on a nearby couch in order to collect himself. He never imagined he had to go through so many things in a span of a couple of days. If it hadn’t been for Paladin Byun’s constant guidance, he probably never would have made it, he thinks.

“Thank you, Minseok. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help,” Jongdae says, propping down on the couch beside him. When Jongdae takes hold of Minseok’s hand, it feels strangely cold; far different from the heat that usually pushes the two of them to walk faster - to get to where they’re going as soon as possible before nightfall comes.

It is at this very moment, that Jongdae’s hold on Minseok’s hand becomes tighter than ever, as he leans in to leave a light kiss on Minseok’s lips, all while the latter seems to be drifting off into sleep.

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

Months later after the grueling ordeal Minseok and Paladin Byun had to subject themselves to, they’ve finally decided to pay a visit to Vault 921, to see if things have finally changed for the better.

They end up returning to the same scene by the Vault door and its significant lack of a bridge. When Minseok activates the Vault Door controls, there is but only one voice he hears on the other side of the intercom panel.

“Minseok! Hold on, we’ll open the door for you,” Overseer Yixing’s familiar voice easily finds itself reverberating on the walls of the underground entrance of the Vault.

Once the bridge has been sent forward for the two of them to cross, Jongdae is immediately on the other side of the bridge, carrying a large backpack with him. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t be coming around anymore,” he says, back to his usual jovial tone.

Paladin Byun sidesteps quickly, heading towards the main area of the Vault, leaving Minseok some time with Jongdae.

“What’s in the bag? Are you pulling another escape stint again?”

Jongdae pretends to look up at the ceiling wistfully. “I might,” he says, coyly in tone. “Yixing has no qualms with me spending it with you, however.”

“We can probably work with that, I guess?” Minseok laughs; he laughs even louder when Jongdae tries to hug him tightly, sneaking kisses along his exposed neck. “Okay, okay, fine. Just, let me talk to Elder Park about this.”

“Can’t wait to finally meet this huge dork Paladin Byun can’t seem to stop talking about,” Jongdae replies, his words getting cut just in time as Baekhyun returns to where the two of them are.

“Are you two finally done flirting? Yixing probably can’t wait for you to leave,” Baekhyun chides in; Jongdae only responds by slapping his nape, the one area the Paladin leaves exposed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to discussion, these are just my personal thoughts on the lore that I've decided to use as background to this fic. Feel free to skip; this information isn't exactly pertinent in understanding the whole fic better.
> 
> However, if there's something you're confused about in this AU, please don't hesitate to ask! I couldn't have possibly done a good job in depicting the whole AU clearly in just one fic.
> 
> There are numerous discussions that revolve around Vault-Tec and their intended use for these Vaults. In one way, I wanted to portray how the nuclear disaster of 2077 had affected Minseok so much from his childhood, all the way until he has grown old enough to unearth the truth on his own. Truth be told, throughout my own playthrough of Fallout 4, I had never thought about all the deceit that Vault-Tec had to go through in order to conduct these experiments onto their own Dwellers.
> 
> I was just thinking that since the Institute had their way in their successful attempt to kidnap the Sole Survivor's child in the middle of the cryogenic process in Vault 111, they may very well have had an impact on a number of the Vaults as well (especially since in the course of the 200 years, Vault-Tec might have ceased to exist somewhere in the middle of all this); hence Jongdae's side of the story in his own experience.
> 
> Most of the dialogue exchanges taken place (except with Minseok and Jongdae) are actual canon dialogue lines in the Fallout 4 vanilla game. 
> 
> If this whole story begs the question of whether Jongdae is actually a synth, due to the one-track dreams he's been getting - my take on this is that he isn't; he started having these dreams way before the Institute was created, and therefore there would be a narrow chance he would be the 'first' synth. (Though you know .. that could work.)
> 
> In any case, I had so much fun conceptualizing the plot for this fic. I've thoroughly enjoyed playing Fallout 4, all the more the fact that there is such a lively discussion with all the lore that spans the franchise in itself. P, as always, thank you for holding my hand throughout this whole journey. Cleo, I hope you like this!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [inked cities](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973005) by [milkvan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkvan/pseuds/milkvan)




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